If you've been to my website PHOTO's section, you know I have three cats living with me. Well, tonight I have A CAT'S TALE to share - (Sorry, but I'm typing this while laughing hysterically and crying - and yes, the photo is of wussy-cat himself, Furball).
He fell off the shelf while climbing into the bag. Bag went with him because the raffia handle was around his body. I'd only just got off the lounge when I heard him coming towards the kitchen at a great rate of knots. Because I have the door partially shut to keep the heat in, can you see him and a shopping bag sized paper bag fit through a 10cm space?
Well, because of the weight of what was inside, he rattled and clattered through the door. The bag hit the door step then the refrigerator on the way through, so extra noise and damage value in one!
I caught my first sight of him as he tore across the kitchen lino, bag around his rear end like the hounds of hell were on his tail (and as far as he was concerned they were!!!!!!!!! Wish I'd had my camera!).
He disappeared behind the two single seater lounges, banging and crashing. I called but he of course ignored me, and barrelled behind the three seater lounge. More banging and crashing, noise amplified because of the enclosed space (which would have really made woosy-cats day! NOT).
Now, as most of you know there ain't much room behind it or the other end where they normally exit but somehow he made it through (adrenaline was probably the impetous he needed). Next thing I saw was him pop out between the lounge and the wall and bounce back like he was attached to a bungee cord. The bag had finally got stuck/anchored.
I was in an hysterical heap on the floor at the sight, not helping the situation any by the guffaws coming from my mouth.
At this point Furball started attacking the lounge while heaving and twisting. I thought I should probably give him a hand and, still laughing, headed over. I resigned myself to losing some skin in the attempt but before I could do more than put my hand down the side to feel the bag, Furball wrenched free, tore the handle off the bag and took off back out the way he'd come!!! (again like the hounds of hell were chasing him and again, because in his mind, they were!).
I promptly collapsed on the lounge to laugh hysterically for the next ten minutes before I went out to see if he was OK. He was, just all fuzzed up and spooked at every sound. He's still out there, sulking at being bested by a paper bag.
So, an adventurous end to the night (for him), a funny one (for me), and a fatal end for the gift in the bag (as it was smashed after being towed behind a freaked out cat who fell off a shelf, then bashed it into a refrigerator and forced it to endure the lounge room gauntlet).
Here ends THE CAT'S TALE.