Things That Go Bump (and crash, and boom) In The Night

There is a velvety silence that fills the darkness.

No sound issues from the shadows.

I stalk the inky blackness, stealthily moving from room to room. Surveying my kingdom, I find nothing amiss. The very fact that nothing is amiss proves my supposition that something is amiss.

I find Ivan in the living room. He is warily contemplating a spot on the hardwood floor. The spot confuses Ivan because he is convinced that this is a different spot than the one that was in the same spot this morning. He realizes that the spot is identical to the spot he studied this morning, but somehow in the darkness, the character of the spot seems more sinister. This is not the happy spot Ivan spoke with earlier, this spot is insolent and full of itself. This spot must die. Ivan attempts to suffocate the spot with a firmly placed paw, but this has little affect. Confused, Ivan gives up and decides to accompany me on my patrol.

We move down the hall to the door of Tiger Lily's room. Tiger Lily is placed in solitary confinement each evening within the computer thingy room. Apparently the two leggers feel that it is necessary to place her in protective custody each evening. I am annoyed by their mistrust. I do not say their mistrust is not well placed, but it still annoys me.

I try to lure Tiger Lily to the door with a gentle scritch scritch scritch on the door frame, but either she is not falling for it, or she is too soundly asleep to notice. This too annoys me.

We move on.

In the bathroom, the bathroom spider is nowhere to be seen. However, I can hear snickering and so I know he lurks nearby. My annoyance continues.

We enter the kitchen. Ivan immediately scans the floor for any crumbs that may have settled there. Finding none, Ivan is annoyed.

Suddenly, I realize that the male two legger has neglected to put away the dish thingies. There are numerous plates, bowls and glasses sitting much closer to the edge of the counter than is generally advisable in a domicile that contains cats.

This has potential.

Silently, without attracting Ivan's attention, I leap to the counter. Taking into account wind, drift and the Coriolis effect, (none of which I understand, but it sounds scientific) I wait until the perfect moment, and push a half-filled cereal bowl over the edge. It lands with a satisfying "sploosh-thud" on Ivan's little noggin. This sets off a chain reaction that can only be called "epic".

Ivan, blinded with milk and panic flies into the dining room, leaving a trail of corn flakes and overturned furniture in his wake. He hits the wine cabinet with such force that he dislodges two glasses, causing them to shatter.

At last the furry orange ball of destruction comes to rest in the living room and immediately begins cleaning himself. I survey the carnage. Once again, with a little thought and a simple twitch of a paw, the correct order of things has been restored.

I am amused.