Sometimes, I don’t know what happens. Something happens, and I may have an idea, but I’ll never know for certain. While this may seem to be an accurate description of my life in general, it is, in fact, referring to my life with cats.
At some point last evening, I was in the kitchen and heard some strange scrabbling, thumping noise from the bedroom. I walked into the corridor in time to be met by ‘the gang’ (Valkyrie, Moxy and Brazil) charging out of the bedroom in line. After dodging their blurs, I continued into the bedroom, where I found Indigo curious but not alarmed. Nothing seemed out of place. I can’t imagine there had been a fight, as there was no fur about, nothing had been disarranged and the principal complainant at the gang’s presence, Indie, was unbothered.
When I sat down at my bedroom’s desk hours later, however, I noticed several scratches on its surface. Probably made by cats’ claws, I can’t imagine what led to their application, only that they may have been made in a feline’s hurried departure from the room. Why there was a hurried departure, I can but conjecture.
Once again, I am left with a small mystery, its tangible results disfiguring my furniture, and its primary ingredients snoozing comfortably on warm and soft cushions and beds.
The scratches on your desk remind me of my legs when someone here, nameless, launches onto or off of me. Funny what a few claws can do.
ReplyDeleteAnd I cut all of their claws last week...
DeleteThat does have a bit of a "Twilight Zone" feel. Could they have been trying to open desk drawers?
ReplyDeleteIt's a computer desk, and therefore has no drawers. I therefore keep nothing of value in it. At least, of no value to me...
DeleteMaybe they decided you needed a break and they decided to write the blog for you??
ReplyDelete