Friday, January 27, 2012
As I mentioned yesterday, I was headed out to pick up cheesy ziti for dinner. Mission accomplished. I got it home and went about fixing myself a plate as there’s always enough for several meals in the container. I left the plastic bag used to tote the food home in on the counter while I stashed the leftovers in the refrigerator six whole feet away.
That fast Beau was up on the counter and got his head through the handle of the bag. Oh yeah, you can imagine what happened next. He panicked and took off running. Harry, who is petrified of rustling plastic since he was tossed away in a bag as a baby kitten, was in the dining room and instantly decided Beau and the bag were out to get him.
Okay, picture this. Harry screaming, racing in terror up two flights of steps until he hit the attic window and couldn’t go any further, Beau following along in a blind panic, bag around his neck tangled in his legs, me calling for him to stop, Kya and Quinn coming along behind, snickering since they’ve both been in Beau’s position. Yes, they all manage to do this once and then they learn not to poach the bags.
In the attic Harry was arched on the windowsill, making noises that belong in horror movies, not coming from a cat, threatening violence to all so I backed away to search for Beau. I found the bag snagged around the leg of a table that’s stored up there. Beau was way in the back, huddled between boxes where I couldn’t reach him, terrified. I’m sure Harry’s vocal emissions weren’t helping matters and nothing I said or did could coax him out. And of course, Kya and Quinn were still laughing.
After maybe fifteen minutes of failing to retrieve Beau and calm Harry, I gave up and went back downstairs. I’d lost interest in dinner by then so after a few bites I put the rest back into the container for tonight. Never a dull moment at my house.