The Felons are growing, and becoming stronger and more confident. When I let Oleo and Bisto out into the exercise yard (the sitting room) now, the nylon tunnel is still a great deal of fun, but they are climbing the cat-trees now. They don’t bother with platforms – one stops there to taunt one’s brother – they climb straight up the post. I imagine this will change as they gain weight. To descend, they leap from platforms to lower cat-trees or to chairs; climbing down one foot at a time is boring: they fly three or four feet at a time. That’s like a human child routinely jumping from thirty foot heights. And, recalling the ancient days of my youth, I think that’s what children do, if they can get away with it. Kittens certainly do.
When they are loose in the bedroom, however, the Felons live up to their nickname and cause trouble among my computer cords. One evening, to re-connect whatever they disconnected, I placed my chair on the bed so that I could crawl under my desk. (Once again, remembering my childhood, I think I could do that with the suppleness of a snake; now I do it like one of those three hundred year old tortoises from the Galapagos Islands.)
When I looked, Oleo and Bisto had, naturally, made a plaything of my furniture, the skunky-nosed Bisto leading, as he does any physical activity. I apparently re-invented the Jungle Gym.