Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Bad & Breakfast

To say that my two leggers are not "morning people" is understatement in the extreme.

Anyone observing them before 8am would be tempted to either call the paramedics or send for the local zombie hunter. Though they are ambulatory, I assure you that there is absolutely no detectable activity between their ear thingies. They display all the enthusiasm and cheerfulness of a vampire being baptized. Their faces show all the emotion of Keanu Reeves attempting to play Hamlet.

Though he can only very loosely be called conscious, every morning, the male seems to blindly find his way to his coffee maker, fill it with water, add fresh grounds, push the button and then stare the coffee into the pot. Hair disheveled, eyes half-closed, mustache all ahoo, a small rivulet of drool dripping from his chin, he stands wordlessly as the pot fills. Coffee mug in hand, he shambles back to his room. Fortunately, the female has cleared the hallway of any obstacles that may impede his morning migration.

Now some may say that it would cruel, or perhaps "unsportsmanlike behavior" to mess with such a helpless victim. I have considered this at length and have reached an undeniable conclusion...........

I am a cat. Cruel and unsportsmanlike behavior are kinda my thing.

I'm not saying I take advantage of his diminished capacity every morning. That would become predictable and soon he may start carrying a water squirty thingy with him at all times. No, morning mayhem must be carefully apportioned out so as not to become predictable, thereby losing its effectiveness. 

This morning, it was VERY effective.

I had been planning this nugget of naughtiness for weeks.

Shortly before 7:45 this AM, we all took our places.

Tiger Lily, as she does every morning, began slapping at the bedroom door and whining incessantly until the two leggers could be heard moving. This was followed by the sound of a large memory foam pillow striking the other side of the door and both two leggers yelling "SHADDUP!!!!" in perfect unison.

A few minutes later, the door opened and the male began his shuffling journey down the hallway. I notice that he especially dull-witted this morning because he failed to notice the great slimy hairball that he stepped on and which is now dragging from his left heel with a great "ger-slooop" sound every other step. I am somewhat disappointed that the hairball that I worked all night on and placed so perfectly has drawn no reaction whatsoever. Such skill should be recognized and rewarded with at least a shouted "EWWW!! GROSS!!!!".

As he passed the door to the guest bathroom, Ivan launched himself across the hallway in an attempt to maul his bare ankles. Unfortunately, Ivan's timing was slightly tardy and he passed unnoticed between the male's legs and slid into the guest bedroom opposite. Though Ivan caused some structural damage as he struck the bookshelf, dislodging several books and sending a knock knack to its doom, the male remained oblivious to the chaos in his wake.

Now it is up to Jaq. Aside from her musical talents, Jaq it seems is a very adept mimic. She has learned to imitate the fridge thingy's "open door" warning perfectly. As the male stood gazing blankly at the gurgling coffee machine, a sound penetrated his unconsciousness...


The male looked around for the offending sound......


He turned and smacked the door of the fridge thing.......


He turned, opened the door of the fridge thingy, closed it and returned to his vigil.


This time he opened the door, peered around inside for a moment and then shut the door with great authority, knocking several magnets to the floor in the process......


In utter frustration, he reached behind the fridge thingy and yanked the power cord from the wall......


This totally confused both of his functioning brain cells, so he grabbed his half-filled coffee mug and fled back to his bedroom.

As he placed his coffee mug on the bathroom cabinet to cool while he shaved, he failed to notice me hiding behind the lamp.

Now everyone who has ever been graced with feline companionship is aware that any decanter, vessel or bottle that is placed on a cabinet, table or shelf in front of any organism of the feline persuasion is considered "fair game" and therefore required to be pushed or otherwise propelled to the floor below.

This is the one law I feel compelled to obey.

It is often said that one shouldn't cry over spilled milk.

Apparently this axiom does not apply to coffee.


  1. Those two-leggers could set the coffee pot with fixings the night before on a timer and avoid some of these issues!

  2. Well, at least one of you accomplished your goal. Good job, Cujo! Lisbeth is our designated counter clearer. Do you peer over the side to watch your item hit the floor? That's her favorite part of the "game." XOCK, Lily Olivia, Mauricio, Misty May, Giulietta, Fiona, Astrid, Lisbeth and Calista Jo

  3. Oh No it duz not. Mommy wuld have a scweamin' fit ifin we actually spilled hers coffee or knocked it to da floor. Da fact dat she never gets to dwink a hot cup is our way of gettin' at her. MOL

    Luv ya'

    Dezi and Lexi

  4. Stumbling Zombie-like 2 leggers are such fun in the AM, aren't they? :D