Youâ€™d think by now crashes, thumps, and other mystery sounds in our home would be a non-issue. But, no. I still jump, shrug, laugh, or sigh with each and every one. A clattering of near symphonic proportions happened again just this morning.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about our cat, Giese, and her uniquely un-feline clumsiness. Sheâ€™s incredibly cute, chubby, and chocolate-level sweet. All those good qualities had to be balanced out somehow, and God apparently looked under the â€œKâ€ section in his Big Book of Less Than Desirable Gifts. I imagine him closing his eyes, and jabbing a finger on the page. â€œKlutz. Sure, that works although I havenâ€™t created a klutzy cat in some time.â€ Then there was a bolt of lightening, a boom of thunder, and Giese was born.
I have no idea what was going on last night, but at some point I heard the sound of glass and running paws. â€œIâ€™ll figure it out tomorrow,â€ I thought, and drifted back to sleep.
This morning, shortly before my husband came to kiss me goodbye, I once again heard a crash and then an additional rain of objects hitting the floor near our bed. I didnâ€™t even crack open an eye. â€œGiese.â€Â Â It was all I could muster.
A few minutes later my husband walked into the bedroom and started laughing.
â€œHad a visitor, did you?â€ he said. He was talking to the lump that was my head on a pillow.
â€œI donâ€™t even know what happened,â€ I burbled into the cottony goodness. I still hadnâ€™t opened my eyes.
â€œAh, well, this for startersâ€¦â€
Okay, now I had to look.Â Â He held up what had been my table lamp. No, not just a lamp, it was my midnight companion, the light that shines far into the night when Iâ€™m on a reading binge or enduring hot flashes. That table lamp.
The base of the lamp was fine, but the lampshade was a sorry sight. Apparently when the lamp went down it took every object on the nightstand with itâ€¦my alarm clock, pens, nail polishâ€¦
Our other cat, Pudgy, sat calmly near the door. Her face told me it was indeed Miss Giese who had wrought havoc in the bedroom. If she had lifted a paw and pointed in Giese’s direction it couldn’t have been any clearer. Â And Giese? Nowhere to be found.
After I cleaned up the pieces of lampshade, I took the wiry corpse and headed towards the garbage in the garage.Â Â It was then I noticed the the dining room table and realized where the sound of glass had come from the night before.
The table covering was half on, half off, and draped to the side like Angelina Jolie showing her thigh. (And I lovely thigh it is Angelina! I bear you no ill will for sharing it with the world. Honest!) The vase full of carnations teetered near the edge of the table and a glass jar I had been using for my silk painting was on its side nearby. My brushes were on the floor. â€œGiese.â€
Moments later my little chub-ball came trotting into the kitchen. â€œWhatâ€™s for breakfast?â€ was the look in her eye. Sighing, I popped open a can and fed the cats.
They need to keepÂ their strengthÂ up. Â Weâ€™re planning on decorating the Christmas tree this weekend.
Cats? The best part of my day.
Claudia Kittock says
Before kids, we had a Brittany Spaniel names Satch. To say he was crazy is not to scratch the surface of his true nature. Because we were married on the 23rd of December, we were given many Christmas ornaments as gifts and I treasure all of them. WELL, on Satchie’s first Christmas, we found a beautiful gingerbread man ornament IN his mouth, half eaten! Satchie has been dead for decades, but every year we hang ‘his’ ornament and remember our crazy, lovely dog.
That, my friend, is a beautiful story. Any pet lover understands that chew marks, scratches, nose art, and bushels of pet hair make life memorable. I love that you have kept the ornament, and the memories.