There's something wrong with those cats!

One of my favorite old Disney movies was "That Darn Cat" with Dean Jones as an FBI agent chasing Hayley Mills' Siamese around the neighborhood in search of a kidnapped bank teller. The cat's name was DC but other names were implied. Names I've been known to hurl toward any of the three maniacs I live with.

Huge crash in the dining room a little while ago. The dogs were in the living room assuring me that they didn't do it whatever it was. Of course it was Petey. She had her dog food snack earlier and wandered off for a sprawl on my desk. The crash was her pushing my shredder off in the floor. She couldn't have just slid it off she would have had to stand up on it and push it over with her front paws.

Did she run away from the crash? No she planted herself in the large pile of shredded paper scattered all over the floor to investigate her handiwork. I think she did it in a fit of pique after searching my desk for pipecleaners (her latest obsession) which she did not find. She likes the new straight ones, not the three or four bent up ones she has scattered throughout the house.



Cleo is obsessed with hair ties. She ransacks Rhi's nightstand and dresser on a regular basis. She likes to throw them in the water bowl, the catfood bowl, the bathtub - hours of kitty fun. It must be an obsessive compulsive Calico thing. Also she can hear a sheet being fluffed from all the way across the house and runs to get under it before it hits the bed.



Of course Silver has a thing too. She's not a Calico but she does have one blue eye and one green eye. She is always looking for a warm spot and demanding that you hold your arm just the right way for her to achieve it. She's also been known to burn the fur on her tail trying to curl up on the pilot light on the stove. You'd think she'd only have to do that once to figure out that it was a bad idea.

I just went to check my laundry and Cleo was hanging upside down off the dryer watching the clothes spin.

Then there's the stray living on the porch... let's call her Giselle. She's found a spot under the bathroom floor where she can cry to be let in. Yes she is worming her poor pathetic little self in. She slept on my lap today while Dixie used her as a pillow.


 The dogs like her - the cats, not so much. I think they feel a shifting in the crazy!