Sunday, October 7, 2012

The High Life

Today I tackled my Mt. Everest

Anyone who has ever been subjugated by cats is well aware that we will always seek the highest vantage point within our kingdom. There are many theories explaining why we do this. Some believe that we feel less vulnerable, in effect "taking the high ground". Some assert that it enables us a better view of our kingdom. Many are convinced that it is a physical manifestation of our natural tendency to philosophically look down our noses at all creatures we feel are inferior to us.

Basically, everyone.

All of these theories are completely inaccurately accurate.

They are so totally wrong that they verge on being right.

Wrap your head thingy around that one. I dare you.

While it is true that I prefer the higher altitudes within my kingdom for napping, observing and bushwacking unsuspecting gray, whiny, large-faced girl tabbies, that is not the whole story.

Two years ago, at my request, my two leggers completely gutted the back half of my house. They doubled the size of their sleeping quarters as well as the bathroom where they keep their porcelain litter box. At my direction they installed heated floors suitable for napping and all new wooden cabinets suitable for the sharpening of my claws. They generally frown upon my marring the wood, but as always, their opinion matters not. They also installed a new vanity. Next to the vanity, they built a tall cabinet to hold their bottles of stinkum, medicines, grooming implements, (why they don't use their tongues for grooming is beyond me and I will probably address this in another post) and various other arcane objects.

Now we come to the point of this post thingy.

The cabinet which I just described presents a unique challenge. The cabinet rises approximately four tailspans from the surface of the vanity. Between the top of the cabinet and the ceiling is a space that measures .75 tailspans.

Now we come to the point of this post thingy. I must reach this space.

I have spent the last two years studying it. Every night while the female two legger takes her nightly bath, I sit upon the vanity and ponder this space. It is not the height that concerns me, four tailspans is nothing compared to some of the jumps I have made. The Great Refrigerator Leap of August 2011 was at least six tailspans. It is not the small landing area that gives me pause, Last December I stuck a landing on the shower rod from the cabinet. (This jump caused the bathing two legger to have a mild cardiac event.) It is the awkwardness of the transitory area between the top of the cabinet and the ceiling which is causing me trepidation.

     The vanity and sink negate the possibility of a running start. Therefore I must begin this feat standing at the base of the cabinet, jump vertically four tailspans, judging my altitude and momentum perfectly and moving horizontally .278 tailspans, clearing the crown molding at the apex, and stick the landing.

I have worked this out mathematically:


Unless there is a stray crosswind over the shower curtain and then my calculation would have to be altered to:


After much pondering, it is time to make the attempt.

Like any good leader, I decided to ask my "team" for any advice they may offer before I take my life into my own paws.

Ivan asked me to look for noms while I was up there.

Tiger Lily claimed dibs on my catnip mousie thingy after I fall to my death. (I'll smack her later)

I found Jaq sitting inside the box that the new satellite receiver arrived in, softly singing the soundtrack from the Broadway musical "Rent" and decided not to bother her.

The time had come. The female two legger was bathing. The male was sitting on the bench next to the tub thingy talking to her. I assumed my usual position next to the cabinet, gazing at my goal. All the conditions were right. Two years of planning had boiled down to this moment. My muscle thingies tightened......... my tail adjusted just so........ a quick check of the wind....and to the accompaniment of my two leggers screaming "CUJO NOOOO!!!" I leapt.

Finding myself atop the cabinet, completely unscathed, I surveyed my new perch. Other than a single small dust bunny whose growth had been obviously stunted by the thinner air at this extreme altitude, the space was completely empty. Though the view was magnificent, the two leggers looked like.....well I can't honestly say ants, they certainly looked shorter from such a lofty height, I quickly realized that the opportunities for amusement were somewhat meager. Though my forepaws are longer than most, they are not long enough to lay a smack upon any minions from up there. (Unless the male two legger is standing while using his litter box) The best I could hope to do was glare at the two leggers from on high when they go to use the porcelain litter box.

I can do that just as easily from the vanity.

Do not misunderstand me, I consider my day and all the planning that went into it to be an unqualified triumph. Not only did I claim the last undiscovered territory within my kingdom, I showed my minions what I am capable of.

Plus, now the male two legger will never be totally at ease on the porcelain litter box knowing that I may be lurking just above his head.  


  1. LOL! Cujo, you a Genius! I especially LUVed the Great Refrigerator Leap of August 2011!!! Sounds like a Commonsterous achievement! (BTW CujaKitty has mastered the leap to my counter tops) MOL

    1. Thanks Glenna!
      Tell CujaKitty that I am so proud of her!

  2. hahah! Dust bunnies with altitude sickness! hehehehe

    I have recently been attempting to scale my own bathroom Everest. Picture if you will.....The vanity on the left, the porcelain litter box next to it, and then the wall immediately next to that. Until...... I realised that the wall is NOT the full extent of the room. Something to do with a built in closet encroaching on the space from the adjoining room. So, the preliminary wall actually has a cat-sized ledge riiiiight up the top, many MANY tailspans high. Even doing a run-up from the vanity it is impossible to scale this height without one of those pole-vaulting thingies.

    So, what's a kitty cat to do?? Conscript my human as an unwilling Tenzing Norgay to assist me in my intrepid assault on the peak. Whilst the two legger was using the porcelain litter box, I walked from the vanity onto their shoulders, then onto their head. The two legger quickly learnt NOT to move due to the gentle persuasion I employed by impaling her with my claws. And from there, atop her head whilst she was on her litter box, I commanded her to stand up so I could try to scale the wall up to the ledge.

    Unfortunately, the ledge is only about 1 tailspan from the top of the roof, in a house with very high ceilings, and my two legger is being very insubordinate and refusing to instantly grow several inches in height.

    So, alas, my own Everest remains elusive at this time.
    My next plan of attack is to assemble a rope ladder to assist in my future attempts. As rope is not a natural resource in my domain, I have escalated my already fastidious grooming schedule so as to increase productivity of furballs to utilise as rope. The two legger's suspicions are aroused (as you are aware, producing furballs is a rather noisy affair), but I am craftily hiding them around my domain until I have sufficient number to complete the rope/furball ladder.

    I've also commanded my two legger to provide her own hair for this endeavour..... every time I scale her head and hang on with my paws, I am able to reap large sections of her mane for my project!!!

    Now, if I can just get her to remain constantly on the porcelain litter box so I can establish a permanent base camp there, my goal will be that much closer.....!!!

    All this talk of mountains makes me want to yodel. ♫♪mroawrrodelaydemeowwwwww♪♫♫

    With malice aforethought
    Evil Elmo

      Elmo, you slay me!! (in a good way)
      I applaud your efforts. I believe I shall try some two legger hair harvesting myself, although I will have to confine my efforts to the female because the pickings would be slim on the male.
      I have an excellent idea, but I may require your assistance. Please contact me privately at and we shall discuss my plot!
      Your Cohort in Chaos,

  3. OMC, reasons number 487 and 931 why NOT to teach cats math! Loved this!

  4. Simon Teakettle III (Terzo) is delighted that his blog is listed in the right-hand column, although he thinks it should be Front and Centre!

    Meanwhile, Cujo has been cast in the Virtual Production of Peter Pan, produced by Terzo's MEWSical Society. He's a Pirate, of course! Take a peek at: