Small House of Everything

Small House of Everything

Thursday, December 18, 2014

BAD KITTENS

So last week we got two kittens as a result of my youngest's evil idea.  The evil idea was that Pop needs a cat for Christmas.  I have always been a cat person (and, yes, I still love my dog Declan) but the house has been cat-less for several years.  So Christina and her daughter Erin and Kitty bundled me off to the animal shelter to get me a Christmas cat.

Well, in one cage they had two black kittens -- identical sisters.  And they were cute and playful and cuddly and all things kittens should be.  How could I pick up just one and split up a beautiful pair?  So I got two kittens.  Kitty named them Bridget and Colleen (black Irish cats, I guess) and we got a blue collar for Bridget and a purple collar for Colleen and we were in business.  (Christina and Erin also ended up with two kittens -- something Christina vowed she would not do, but Christina already had three dogs, three goats, three reptiles, three kids, and just one cat, so things just balanced out.)

Within a day Declan became acclimated to these strange furry things.  They run to his food dish (not theirs) when I fill it up and Declan gracefully allows them to eat from his dish before he digs in.  The Christmas tree has been knocked over three times, the dining room curtains torn down I don't know how many times, Christmas decorations have mysteriously appeared in my shoes, one of my hearing aids went walkabout several times (appearing in various strange places), I found Bridget proudly scanning her empire from the top of a wreath hanging on our living room wall, and now we have a doubly fine layer of cat hair added to the already fine layer of dog hair that has permeated our house.

That's okay, they are sweet animals and I forgive them.

But...

Yesterday, Kitty got up from the computer without shutting it off.  Suddenly the warm keyboard sprouted cats as if they were magic beans.  They pressed all sorts of warm keys and rolled their tiny little bodies all over the keyboard.  How they did it, I don't know, but suddenly all screen images and the cursor were upside down.  Moving an upside down cursor over an upside down screen is a talent that we severely lack.  But we tried.  Understand, also, that we are technological Luddites and it is a miracle every time we are able to turn the computer on.  But we tried to fix it.  We pushed buttons and awkwardly moved the upside down cursor and clicked and cursed (actually, I cursed; Kitty doesn't) to no avail.

So we were computer-less for over twenty-four hours until son-in-law Walt (he of great computer knowledge and many initials after his name) showed up.  We showed him our problem and he laughed and said, "Well, that's something I've never seen before."  While wondering what the cats did to cause this, Walt pressed a few buttons and fixed the d*mned thing in less than a minute.

Bridget and Colleen, you are forgiven!

We're back, baby!

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