No...there has not been an addition to our family. The kitten is the one on the right -- in her seventh kittenhood, I figure, having turned six a few weeks ago.
Some while ago, I posted, sharing the story of "The attack of the Killer Jade", one of the early exploits of this kitten, when she was still in her first kittenhood. Over the years, this kitten has continued to attempt to have conversations with plants, which insist on attacking her.
I contemplated taking a picture of the crime scene I found in the kitchen this morning, but decided that since it was largely located in an area that I've been threatening to do some serious reorganizing in for some time -- and would thus be quite embarrassing
-- I'd settle for telling the tale without visual aids.
Picture an eating area about seven feet square, with shelves along the back wall, and a 4-foot round table and chairs. The shelves house things like cookbooks, serving dishes in boxes, and there's space underneath the bottom shelf for bins of flour, sugar and dry cat food. Assorted other bulk food packages tuck into whatever corners are available. On the top shelf, are mug racks, cookie jar, and assorted plants that are too large for the window sill. Among them is a dracaena marginata, which as far as we have been aware, is a fairly docile plant. However, its temper flared last night for sure and, like the Killer Jade, it attacked our kitten. In its fury, it almost certainly did a complete flip, as it landed some three feet below its normal position, caught upright between two of the bins. In the process, it expressed itself by flinging soil around, covering a remarkable area, including part of the table, several shelves, assorted bags. It was impressive. It took half an hour just to get the preliminary cleanup done, so that we could use the table for brunch.
Before I did that, I went and had a conversation with our kitten, who was sleeping on her chair in the livingroom. "What did you do to make it jump on you?" Head rises... " 'ih!" "I'd like to think you might learn from the experience, but somehow I doubt it." " 'ih!" Head tucks back in.
Cleanup sufficiently accomplished to use the area, I proceeded with the task that took me into the kitchen in the first place -- feeding cats. At the appropriate moment, the kitten appeared in the kitchen, eyes like saucers, and checking everything veeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyy carefully. Having satisfied herself that she was not going to be attacked again just now, she tucked in to her breakfast. I was amused to note, though, that even while she was in cautious mode, her tail was as completely kitten vertical as it always is.
One thing about it -- it did give me the necessary kick in the butt to get the serious reorganizing done in that corner -- including some serious culling and archiving in the cookbook collection. But you know, it was HOT up there -- I didn't wanna be doing that today!
Kittens!
(of all ages)
Some while ago, I posted, sharing the story of "The attack of the Killer Jade", one of the early exploits of this kitten, when she was still in her first kittenhood. Over the years, this kitten has continued to attempt to have conversations with plants, which insist on attacking her.
I contemplated taking a picture of the crime scene I found in the kitchen this morning, but decided that since it was largely located in an area that I've been threatening to do some serious reorganizing in for some time -- and would thus be quite embarrassing
Picture an eating area about seven feet square, with shelves along the back wall, and a 4-foot round table and chairs. The shelves house things like cookbooks, serving dishes in boxes, and there's space underneath the bottom shelf for bins of flour, sugar and dry cat food. Assorted other bulk food packages tuck into whatever corners are available. On the top shelf, are mug racks, cookie jar, and assorted plants that are too large for the window sill. Among them is a dracaena marginata, which as far as we have been aware, is a fairly docile plant. However, its temper flared last night for sure and, like the Killer Jade, it attacked our kitten. In its fury, it almost certainly did a complete flip, as it landed some three feet below its normal position, caught upright between two of the bins. In the process, it expressed itself by flinging soil around, covering a remarkable area, including part of the table, several shelves, assorted bags. It was impressive. It took half an hour just to get the preliminary cleanup done, so that we could use the table for brunch.
Before I did that, I went and had a conversation with our kitten, who was sleeping on her chair in the livingroom. "What did you do to make it jump on you?" Head rises... " 'ih!" "I'd like to think you might learn from the experience, but somehow I doubt it." " 'ih!" Head tucks back in.
Cleanup sufficiently accomplished to use the area, I proceeded with the task that took me into the kitchen in the first place -- feeding cats. At the appropriate moment, the kitten appeared in the kitchen, eyes like saucers, and checking everything veeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyy carefully. Having satisfied herself that she was not going to be attacked again just now, she tucked in to her breakfast. I was amused to note, though, that even while she was in cautious mode, her tail was as completely kitten vertical as it always is.
One thing about it -- it did give me the necessary kick in the butt to get the serious reorganizing done in that corner -- including some serious culling and archiving in the cookbook collection. But you know, it was HOT up there -- I didn't wanna be doing that today!
Kittens!