Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Chilled Kittens and Other "Tails"

The kittens were fascinated with housework this weekend. Putting groceries away became an arctic adventure as the open refrigerator revealed a cool kaleidoscope of colorful things to explore. Who needs a rock wall when you have refrigerator door shelves?


The dish washer..


washing machine and dryer...


provided endless imaginary hunting expeditions for the kittens. I found myself doing head counts after opening and closing my appliances.

Monday morning, Spree disappeared.

I fed everyone but she did not appear. I went up to get her. She wasn't on the bed, the last place I had seen her. I looked everywhere, just in case she'd gotten shut in a closet.

No where.

She wasn't under any of the beds or furniture. I even looked in the refrigerator because I had opened it when I was prepping breakfast for everyone. I didn't see her.

I was running late, so I left for work, still not knowing where she was.

Could she be in the refrigerator?

No, I looked, I told myself as I drove through DC rush hour traffic.

Maybe I missed her. What if she climbed behind that big bag of green beans? Should I turn around and check again? I'd be late for work if I did. I went to work.

I was trying to re-assure myself that Spree was small and didn't require that much oxygen (breathing is so over rated!) and the refrigerator was cold, so that would drop her core temperature and she'd probably curl up and sleep, that would conserve her oxygen usage, right?

All sorts of visions were dancing through my head.

Luckily no one showed up for our special help session at work so I asked if it would be o.k. if I ran home.

When I got home, I ran to the refrigerator, opened the door and rummaged to the back of the shelves.

No Spree.

Where the heck was she?

I called her name as I opened every closet, looked under all the furniture, opened all the drawers and cabinet doors. Still, no Spree.

I was getting a little panicky. How could I lose a kitten? I sat down on the bottom stair, the boys were looking at me in anticipation, "Play with us" their eyes and twitchy tails implored.

"Where's your sister?" I asked.

"Who needs that silly girl?" They seemed to convey as they wove in and out of my legs while they purred, "Play with us!"

I stood up and ran up the stairs, calling Spree's name, the boys were on my heels.

I ran down the stairs calling her name, the boys still on my heels, like I was some male kitten pied piper.

I ran down the stairs into the family room, asked a sleeping Ranger if he'd seen Spree. He just growled. The boys pounced on each other gleefully. This game of chasing me up and down stairs was kind of fun.

I ran back upstairs, calling Spree's name, totally motivated to rip my house apart - - and - - there- - sauntering through the dining room, like she'd been there the whole time, was Spree.

I picked her up and kissed her little head. The boys stretched their paws up my pant legs mewing to be picked up too.

After each one was snuggled and heads counted one last time, I headed back to work.


Miss Em said...

That's as bad as trying to remember if you turned the coffee pot off or unpluged the iron.
No matter how much you tell yourself you will turn around and go back just to check.

Next time when you look under the bed see if a hole in the box-spring botom liner...if so then that's her hide-dee hole from the boys.
I know about this because that's one of my cat's favorite places and the first one I check when I looking for her.

Miss Em said...

Jeeeesh! one day I will acutally learn how to write or to spell. sff.

see if a = see if there is a
botom = bottom

sff = short fat fingers