R.I.F.

A major group that the cats have displaced (if not in space, in attention) is our large plush animal collection. We have ~ 100 creatures, mostly bears, on shelves around the place. Collected over 15 years, they are in excellent shape, since of course we have no human little ones and the cats mostly leave them alone.

With the ongoing space issues at the kitten farm, we made a decision last winter to give away many of the plush creatures. With the destruction from hurricane Katerina, this has become more urgent. We've basically been looking for a place which accepts gifts in kind for the youngest hurricane victims.

The Boston Globe had pointer to a collection going on at Foxboro Stadium tomorrow, so 50 or so creatures are leaving us, to lead lives snuggling kids who need them.

However, although we had too many bears even before the cats arrived, it does make me sad to see them go.

A Daily Stench Roundup

Somewhere in there over the weekend, a cat scored a solid miss of both the litterbox and its area rug.

We also had a cat (definitely not Emily) make a lake outside a second box.

Finally, at 4:40 AM this morning, Emily threw up clear liquid in the closet. This was after she had been looking uncomfortable yesterday evening -- she seems slightly happier now.

Katherine, the wonderful mom, cleaned up all three messes.

Printer Climbing

Whitey is again climbing on the printer rack.

This brings new meaning to the words, scalable fonts.

March of the Litterboxes

With the living room and other shelves set up, the network pantry is ready to be emptied and replaced with the kitty pantry.

Therefore, the dining room litterbox has started moving towards the kitchen. It moved across the dining room towards the kitchen doorway on Sunday, and today it should move to the dining room side of door.

Thus, by this time next week, the litterbox should be properly exiled away from the normal human traffic.

Down in Front!

The living room shelves (AKA the entertainment center) are up.

They must be deeper than the old TV stand because the first thing that happened is that Billy jumped up and stood in front of the TV looking at the screen. No doubt he would have done this on the old stand had he fit.

Officially, he got the Mist of Doom to keep him from scratching the screen of our relatively new TV screen, but mostly it was just he was blocking the view.

Weapons of mass construction

As previously noted, we're setting up new shelving around the Kitten Farm, including a Skandia entertainment center. We can buy shelves faster than we can get them set up, though. For the last few days we've had a 6"-12" stack of disassembled shelves in our dining room. These shelves are a little under two feet square, relatively lightweight, with a smooth finish on both sides.

So, time for Saturday morning Cat Fu practice. Whitey and Billy are chasing each other around the downstairs with wild abandon. Billy runs behind the stack of shelves. Whitey launches himself onto the top of the stack... transferring all his momentum to the low-friction interface between the top shelf and the one underneath. The shelf keeps going, with him on board.

In other words, our little engineering kitten figured out how to throw a shelf at his brother.

Billy got out of the way. The shelf landed with a crash. Both cats were unharmed but were last seen watching the shelves with deep suspicion.

Wind Sprints

Chowline (AKA Billy) is living down his nickname again.

This morning, he was up on my bookshelf again looking down two shelves for treats or whatever. I am still afraid he'll fall and hurt himself, but I decide I might as well get a picture for his memorial service. I get out of my office chair and wander up the hall for the camera.

This causes Billy to do a Heisen Cat in order to follow me. I hear the various controlled crashes which are Billy hopping down from the ceiling in stages. I sort of expected this, but I don't expect what happens next. Billy bursts from the door of my office, goes into afterburner, and shoots the length of the hall. He's headed for the stairs, but he goes into the turn so fast he loses traction on the hardwood floor and bounces off the wall. This doesn't slow him; rather, he uses the bounce to correct his course and is gone down the stairs headed for the breakfast buffet.

Never mind that breakfast isn't for another hour.

In his favor, he does figure out I am not headed downstairs and comes back, but my act of walking to the top of the stairs sends him downstairs again, except for the wall banging part.

Lather, rinse, repeat.