That Is Not a Toy!

I went home after work on Tuesday, and soon after, I saw Andante and Largo playing with something on the linoleum floor. It looked like a kernel of hard-food. They were batting it around like a tiny soccer ball. I looked closer. It was not a kernel of hard-food. It was a minuscule turd.

“That is not a toy!”

I went home on Wednesday, and heard, as soon as I came in the door, a noise downstairs in the library. Andante was down there playing with something, something that sounded different than any other sound I’d heard. I descended the stairs and found the giant kitten playing with a disposable razor, a disposable razor with the cover of its blade cracked and half-off. He had raided the bathroom cupboard for it.

“That is not a toy!”

Returning to the Cosy Cabin on Thursday, I greeted the cats as always and proceeded to scoop, sweep and vacuum, and generally mitigate the disasters the beasts make during the day. I went downstairs and, in the dark, saw something floating in a water-bowl. I turned on the light. It was a little receptacle of Restoralax I had had for Indigo and had forgotten in a bathroom cupboard. The Tempos had found it, knocked it down the stairs and somehow lifted it up and dropped into water.

“That is not a toy!”

Every day is another instance of the cats messing with me, doing things they ought not, and generally playing with my mind.

“That is not a toy!”