the inner kitten

The cat brothers and I got up at the usual time, way too early.

I fed the boys, then put out the trash since it’s trash day. It’s just two cats and me contributing to the pile, though the quantity we generate astonishes me. It is better now that I don’t get paper copies of two daily newspapers, though I still get one weekly in print. Even then, I generally manage to fill one large trash bag each week, two if I sort out boxes the cats demand I save for them. Most of the trash is related to kitchen activities, though the cats contribute a significant pile from their litter boxes, of which there are three.

After a light breakfast and coffee, I watched “Morning Joe”, which I truly mean to stop doing before I blow a gasket listening to Joe Scarborough blasting away about how the President is guilty of keeping the enrollment numbers for ACA “secret”, you know, that quirky conservative Republican thing where everything always is a conspiracy. Ugh. I promise you I won’t get started!

The boys and I played a bit with their newest laser toy, the Ba-Da-Beam. They are so jaded, they just look at me and give me that world-weary look of two-year old cats that means, “Hey! I know it’s just a light. No substance there!” That is, until Dougy’s inner kitten kicked in: Dougy can’t refuse his inner kitten, so, after a few moments of cynical disdain, he was pumping blood in high-speed pursuit of the light!

Andy’s resistance takes longer to overcome. He watched his brother at play till his inner kitten tugged on his tail and said, “Andy, just pretend to play if you can’t pull off genuine play…!” He hopped off the recliner, his favorite perch, and chased his brother, who was chasing the light in kittenish abandon.

Adrenalin pumping, the boys switched from laser light chasing to their mutually favorite game: “kill the antelope”! That is, chase each other, alternating which one is predator, and which one is prey. They get some pretty good speed on the ground, and make amazing, very athletic leaps onto furniture, over furniture, on top of each other till the game’s done or one of the boys gets a bit too aggressive for the other. In that case, the abused brother goes off for a sulk, and the abusing brother comes to me for reassurance he’s still a “good kitty”. (Which he’s not!) Today played out the way it always does, with one protesting too aggressive play, then running off to sulk.

The sulk didn’t last long. Adrenalin wore off, the boys both stopped by for a nose rub. Noses rubbed, it was time for a cat nap till time for morning treats. Often enough, I join them, each for a little cat nap in his favorite nest.

(To be honest, I just fall asleep in my chair, my inner old fart just too tired from getting up way too early to serve my cats!)