I think that Stryker is back to normal. I, however, am not.
Any crash I hear, I run upstairs to make sure everyone is o.k. -- no broken bones, no eyes poked out, that kind of thing.
Crash! I run upstairs to find both Scout and Stryker digging in my Christmas Cactus. Good grief! Scout, hate to say, is usually the instigator and Styker follows. However, Stryker really likes dirt. I yelled - - Scout immediately took off and hid under the table (where there was more dirt). Stryker, however, remained contentedly sniffing and licking at the potting soil.
It was late and I didn't feel like cleaning the mess up. So I left it for the morning. When I came downstairs, there was my Styker (who could have been named Pig Pen) sleeping in the pile of dirt under the table.
Now, remember, this is the little guy who attacked the vacuum cleaner when I was cleaning all their fur off the sofa.
And he is the little guy who attacks the broom when I sweep the kitchen floor - - and of course once I have the pile of dirt, he rolls around in it to spread it out again. ARGH!
Oh, this morning I heard Ranger making a fuss at the back door. He is my cat that really doesn't meow. But he was meowing. Upon investigation, I found this on my deck.
Well, I purposely flung it off my deck and into the woods! Bleck!