So I'm pretty sure that I'm about to break (for the second time) one of the blogging Ten Commandments, which goes something like this:
Though Shalt Not Blog About Thine Pets. No One Cares.
Too bad. I'm waiting around for a furniture shipment today (only Dan's wardrobe closet. Ikea's tomorrow! Canada shipment--unknown) so the cats are my current inspiration.
Specifically I'll talk about Cosmo.
He's a trouble maker, and I am fearful that term "curiosity killed the cat" might apply to him if I don't keep both my peepers and my spectacles trained on him at all times.
In our old apartment, Dan and I were lounging around one lazy summer evening when there was a knock at our apartment door. It was our neighbour:
"Cosmo's sitting in my living room, hissing at my cats."
!!!! Holy crap!!!! Our COMPLETELY unagile cat had somehow managed to walk through the balcony railings, walk around the divider that separated our balcony from the neighbours, climb the netting that wrapped around their deck, and saunter into their living room like he owned the place.
We lived on the top floor of the building, by the way. I shudder to think how it could have been worse.
So, feeling like the complete and utter negligent assholes that we were, we raced over to the neighbours. Sure enough, Cosmo had planted himself in the middle of her living room, King of his conquered castle, and was hissing in the general direction of her cats, who were cowering under the couch.
Dan went to pick him up and Cosmo continued to hiss and spit at the indignity of being removed from this new land he had founded. Back in our apartment, we put him down and he ran full speed ahead (in a very crooked line) back to the balcony where he attempted escape number two. Little bugger. We were hot on his heels though, and another escape was not in his future.
But living in this new apartment, I was convinced that Cosmo's efforts to escape were limited if not totally impossible.
I thought wrong.
One of the things everyone seems to do in Switzerland is to air out their bedding by hanging it out their windows in the morning. When in Rome, me thinks so I have started to do the same.
On Tuesday my bedding was hanging out the window and I was in the middle of finally unloading my suitcases.
I should have known, I should have known. I walk out of the bedroom for one second, and when I come back I was greeted by the tail-end sight of a little furry grey feline behind, while the front of said feline was hanging OUT THE WINDOW.
Holy heart attack Batman. My reaction was to yell, NO COSMO! But obviously I couldn't do that because he was already tipping around like a vertigo patient who just stepped off the merry-go-round. One loud word from me would have sent him falling out the window, surely never to land on his feet. So I had to play it cool, and be all "Oh Cosmo. How's it going buddy? How's the view? Pretty nice, right." As I casually sauntered towards him like it was no big deal at all.
You'll have to pardon the lack of photographic evidence on that one and just take my word for it. Or I could mail you the three new grey hairs I have, if you really want proof.
Worst part about it, he now hangs around by the window crying to get out. Incidentally, the bedding doesn't get aired out the window anymore.
Let me out. You're no fair.
I hate you Mother. You ruin everything.
"I hate you Mother." Buster. Arrested Development. Anyone else a fan? Go watch it, you'll love it.
And how's Poppy dealing with the move, you ask?
Well, how about I let you know when she finally decides to come out of hiding.