We Are Not Amused

We Are Not Amused
30 September 2010 
Nikki our indoor/outdoor cat is not amused. I ratted him out. When The Prince Consort came home from work, I pointed out that the smirky look stretching Nikki’s ebony muzzle along with the  Who Me? look was because a small mammal had been brought through the little cat door in the screened porch. Nikki was saving ‘the meat’ for later. 
The Prince Consort may need a promotion, maybe to Queen’s Consort. He caught the chipmunk in the butterfly net, and deposited him on the lawn. I do Not go anywhere near the little furbags. I have a healthy fear of chipmunks earned when I worked at the wildlife rescue. One ungrateful little patient sank his eight-feet long fangs into my pointer finger and hung on just because I was cleaning out his cage. Clearly that chipmunk was feeling Lots better, ready to be released back into the wild. Which I would have done if anyone had opened the back door instead of assisting me in disengaging Dracu-chipmunk. 

I was going to include a photo of Tsar Nicholas (Nikki is the son of a lady cat who was a Russian Blue, and Pops who was coal black. Ebony furred Nikki is clearly a black Russian.) No photo because Nikki is sulking somewhere. We freed a perfectly good meal. Not that he’ll turn his nose up at the kibble dinner tonight or tomorrow morning. 
Nikki doesn’t like being indoors. Except for meals and to use the little kitty box. Question: Why does an indoor/outdoor cat come Inside to use the litter box? I promise there’s not only a litter box on each floor of our house, there’s one on the screened porch where Nikki prefers to hang out.  
Samcat, our elderly indoor-only cat who prefers to hang out on his self-warming pad on the back of the couch or in The PC’s chair, is not amused. Samcat wants dry food left out so he can free-feed all night. (He doesn’t do mice.)  But I’m standing firm. I’m no longer contributing to the pantry mouse’s hoard. Until Samcat starts helping me sweep, or at least hands me the dustpan for scooping up the full pound of kibble I uncovered in the pantry’s back corner, Samcat does not vote on food availability. I’m a hard woman. I will only get up once a night to refill the canned food bowl.   
Come to think of it yesterday Nikki cat was not amused. He caught the kibble-stealing-pantry-mouse, and took him out to the screened porch. And then I said, “Good boy.” Nikki looked up. The mouse escaped. Nikki stared at me, stared at the wall the mouse climbed, stared at me. Get over it, Nikki. 
Oh, fine. The Prince Consort noticed that I’m at the computer. Here comes his newest favorite phrase, “Are you Blogging!” Can you hear that high note he hits on ‘Blogging’?He’s getting a touch paranoid. I am amused.    


  1. Thank you, Vicki. That's my goal. To get a smile here and there.


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