By Thomas Garcia
QCS Senior Writer
If you are a cat and you are wondering how you can drive your owner (personal butler) insane, just come over and take some notes from my cats, Toby and Brownie.
As some may already know, I have two cats and they are a regular Butch and Sundance when it comes to defying authority. They have even jumped off the top of the refrigerator trying to escape justice after finding and tearing open a treats bag.
Usually it’s the pair of them that are up to no good around the house.
They even managed to open the cupboard door to reveal all kinds of wonderful stuff they could claw, scratch, rip open and toss around the kitchen while I was away at work or off at a friend’s house.
Some might think this is just their way of saying they miss me. Well, I’d much prefer a card to cleaning up their mess.
I had a bag of catnip in the same cupboard, if you have seen what cats do when they come in contact with catnip, then you know the chaos that followed.
Let me set the scene for you: I get home and turn on the lights. I see no cats, so I walk into the kitchen, and there on the floor are ripped-up packages of rice and crackers all over the floor with catnip on top of the mess.
Where are the cats, you might ask?
Why, they are on top of the mess, rolling around like pigs in mud. They are not even the slightest bit concerned about me finding them in the mess.
In fact, they look up at me let out a slight meow to acknowledge me and return to rolling around in blissful joy.
They quickly changed their attitude once they saw me grab the broom and really high tailed it out of the kitchen once I started sweeping and cussing at them.
To someone who doesn’t own cats, it may seem a little harsh that I cussed at Toby and Brownie for doing something they didn’t know was wrong.
Well, they probably had a good idea that it was wrong when they jumped on top of the microwave and spent some time trying to loosen and remove the twine that I placed around the knobs of the cupboard doors to keep certain inquisitive felines out.
If that was not enough indication that they had done wrong, then the ripping and dropping of packaged foods all over the ground should have been a big tip-off.
Some might say I’m expecting to much from my cats to know that they should or should not do some things. That may be so, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t yell at them when they do wrong to encourage them not to do it again.
After I cleaned up the mess, Brownie was on top of a chair that has since become their chair and scratching post, and Toby as nowhere in sight.
I called out, “Handsome Cat, where is my Handsome Cat,” but got no response.
I went on with my evening and began some cooking and a load of laundry, and still there was no sign of Toby. I looked in his usual hiding places around the house but with no luck.
I turned off the stove and started searching every place in the house, including closets and cabinets that I knew he couldn’t get into, but I had to be sure.
About 30 minutes passed and I could not figure out where he might be, and it was becoming so alarming I was about to call my friend Amanda over to come help me look.
Amanda would totally understand if I called her to come look for a missing cat in my house. I’ve done the same for her and would do it again without a second thought.
I sat down on the couch and began to dial the phone when I looked down and saw something come out from under the couch.
It was just for a moment, but I knew I had seen either a brown mouse, and that the cats were about to be fired from their mousing duties, or I saw the end of Toby’s tail.
Brownie saw the same thing I did and instantly was on top of the situation as he began clawing at what was now obviously Toby’s tail.
I lifted the couch up and just as I had thought, there was Toby looking up at me like a kid caught eating a cookie before dinner. He was trapped the only way out was by me and he knew it.
Toby did not hiss or moan out of fear like I thought he would. He instead did something that caught me totally off guard. He ran up to my legs and began rubbing up against them and letting out little cries of joy as if to say, “You saved me.”
I knew this was not the case but Toby was just so darned cute I stepped aside and let him clear the couch and set it back down.
Toby had managed to anger, concern and relieve me all in a matter of 30 minutes. Imagine what he could do with an entire hour.
Thomas Garcia is a senior writer at the Quay County Sun. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org