June has declared ownership of our cat.
Rucifer is a nice kitty, a gentle kitty, and lately he’s kind of a frightened kitty. I would like to say I have no idea why he’s such a scaredy cat during the day, but it’s pretty obvious that it has everything to do with the fact that daytime is when the kids are awake.
And the moment they’re in their beds, he comes out and gets happy and social with the grownups.
I really don’t see the kids handle the cat very much but I’m starting to realize that things happen around here without my approval all the time. Take last week, for example.
I was going around the house collecting laundry like a good little wifey and ended up in my bedroom. Much to my husband’s delight, I have recently purchased a large hamper with a lid to hide the chaos from the universe.
Trying to gather a full load of colors, I lifted the lid to see what was left and found myself staring into a pair of sweet and slightly pathetic eyes.
Just at that moment, June came down the hall.
“Mommy! What are you doing?” She asked suspiciously as I quickly closed the lid.
“Um, I’m just cleaning up. What are you doing?” She looked at me with slanty eyes, then casually glanced at the hamper.
“I’m just looking for Rucifer.”
“Really? Well why don’t you go look under your bed?”
“No, I don’t want to look there.”
“Why don’t you look under my bed?”
“Well, no I don’t want to look there either.” She was nervous, I was nervous, and I’m pretty sure the cat was terrified.
“Where do you want to look then?” I asked, pinning her down with my all-knowing stare.
“Just not everywhere,” which is the obvious answer for a three-year-old with a secret.
“Hey! Why don’t you help me with the laundry? Could you go get the basket from the bedroom for me?”
Since June loves to participate in anything that involves me or my life or things I’d like her to stay out of, she jumped at this chance and ran to do my bidding. And that’s when the cat and I pulled off the Great Escape. I’ve never seen an animal make itself so scarce so fast.
When June came back in and found me digging around in the hamper she was not pleased. “Hey! What did you do with my kitty?”And that’s when I launched into my lecture about kitties and prisoners and people who will someday live with the devil if they’re not nice.
So much for agency. Since then I’ve found the kitty in three different toddler-made prisons hidden around the house. Hey, at least she always puts in a toy and a blankie for him.
Okay, love that June story.
Kelsi has been our resident cat-terrifyer. Ever since Bristol’s residency at our house commenced she has tortured that cat endlessly. We also have found it in shoved in backpacks, locked in rooms, stuffed in toy boxes, in the play kitchen over, and wrapped/swaddled/suffucating in a huge blanket from which it was unable to escape.
Luckily the cat is the sweetest most easy going thing and still tolerates (maybe even) loves us. Although I notice she’s pretty darn wary whenever Kelsi makes an appearance.
Oh, and yesterda y I forgot…we found the cat in a basket that had been shoved into the lower book shelf, creating quite the most effective prison. Kelsi is getting more ingeniuos as time goes on.
Loved the way you handled June. I think I may have to pull out all the stops and introduce Kelsi to the idea of a most uncomfortable address in a hot, eternal home with a most undesirable companion.
We didn’t do too bad as kids. Our cat usually got put in a laundry basket that was turned upside down. However, a blanket and toy were not given to our prisoner. I love that June had slanty eyes!
The little naughty! Speaking of the poor kitty, is he going with you to Germany?