Cat Break

If I didn't know better, I'd think our family situation was drafted for the next "Must See TV" filler or daytime soap opera. Short of demon possessions a la Days of Our Lives, we could compete.

Last night, I stepped out of a room right into the middle of a "cat break". Many times before, my cats would see an opportunity to quietly sneak out of their holding cell (a nice sized bedroom), or bolt like little punks running from a squad car. Once free, they'd silently and slyly lurk about, frequently looking over their shoulders in case they were being followed. The drama is rather similar to a real prison break to which I take offense. As if their lives are so hard...

Somehow, my devious cats opened the bedroom door last night and were quietly tip-toeing their way towards new frontiers (at least for them). One had already made it to the living room when I approached in time to scurry the other back. What was more ridiculous was the fact that our ever watchful guard dogs -- the fierce yorkies one step removed from the wolf -- were peacefully sleeping not two feet from the feline trespasser. Good one guys; can't wait to see what happens with a real intruder.

Diane and I carefully picked up and removed the sleeping puppies, then corralled Maxie back to the bedroom. Evidently all the action was too much for Maxie and he promptly stepped into his kitty litter to "use the restroom". Diane and I were in mid conversation when we heard Maxie "let one go". "Ahhhhh, he just farted and now he's pooping down the side of the kitty litter. Jeeesuuuus," Diane exclaimed. Yes, folks, my cat evidently has projectile diarrhea -- sounds about right. And, as luck would have it, he was lined up on the very edge of his spacey litter box, letting him miss the bucket entirely. Swell gig all around. It would appear that I need to take him in for a little check up because I know I'm not riding with THAT all the way to Maryland, particularly since he aims to miss when it comes to his kitty litter.

Faaaaaantastic.

~E