Accidental or deliberate?

Last night Gabriel joined me in bed, as he does every night.  As usual he wanted to have his head rubbed, his belly tickled and his head rubbed some more. 

Usually he sleeps late (as I do) and we get up together.  Not this morning though.  I woke up from a scratching on the door, followed by “Meow, meow”.

“Ssst,” I shushed sleepy.

This didn’t work, Gabriel cried and kept on crying, he pleas getting louder and louder.

“Gabriel,” I said, “come back to bed and go to sleep.”  In reply he scratched the door some more and let out another couple of “meows”.

“Gaaaaaabriel,” I groaned, “pleeeeease!  It’s too early, come back to bed.”

Gabriel wouldn’t hear of it and meowed more insistent than before.

“GABRIEL!” I yelled, now fully awake.  “What is it with you?  It’s too early."

 
“Meow” he said in response.

I could have just gotten up and let him out of my bedroom, but it’s was so warm in bed and I wasn’t quite ready to leave, even if it was only for a few seconds.

To my relief Gabriel left his spot by the door and jumped on my bed.  He didn’t curl up though, he stepped on the bed’s headboard and sat there.

I turned over, snuggled under the covers and was just about to doze off when something hard landed right snack on my head.   A stone duck was the culprit, knocked down courtesy of Gabriel he couldn’t keep his paws to himself.  He knocked that duck down to get back at me for not letting him out.   

Accidental or deliberate?  One thing is for sure, when he start meowing tomorrow, I’ll open the door, who knows what else he has in mind.

From there on my day didn’t exactly get better. 

While I was working on the computer later on, I suddenly heard a “tonk”, followed by “splat, splat, splat”.  I was still trying to figure out what the strange noise was when I noticed something moving on Dieter’s nigh stand, where he keeps a fish tank.

On the night stand was a tiny fish, flipping and flapping like crazy.  I immediately rushed to the rescue, but picking up a tiny, slippery fish proved more difficult than I expected.  After a couple of futile attempts I resorted to wiping the fish with one hand into my other hand.  Much like one would brush crumbs off a table.

I worked and once I had the fish I deposited him back into the water.  Oh my heart, my poor heart.  Even though I managed to stay calm during a crisis, once it was over I nearly went horizontal.

I had to tell someone, I had to share this near horrible experience.  So I called the owner of the fish, Dieter.  And what did he do when I told him the horrible tale?  Not what I expected.  He wasn’t shocked, he wasn’t worried, he wasn’t even sympathetic, he … burst out laughing.  Thought the whole thing too funny.  He even posted it on Facebook!

First a cat, then a fish … maybe I should stick to a bird or something.

Something fishy

We have a new addition to the family. Actually, three new additions. I swear, I’ll never understand humans. Get this ...

One fine day, some seven years ago, mom came home with a little fish and a little blue plastic tank. “Hi Chanel,” she said, “Come over here and meet Blub.”
I took one look at the darn thing and I thought ‘Ah ah, that thing looks creepy.’

I know what you’re thinking ... a cat scared of a fish, but hey, we all have our little quirks. Some people are afraid of spiders, some of mice, I’m afraid of fish. They’re so slippery and slimy, they look at you sideways and their mouth constantly opens and closes ... eeeeuh (this is me shuddering), they give me the creeps.

So anyway, the months passed, Blub grew and before long his little blue tank became too small. So what did mom do? Instead of flushing the thing down the toilet, she went and bought a bigger tank. A year later tank number two was too small and now she really pulled out all the stops and got Blub a really big tank. I mean it was huge and it had everything: a castle, a tree, flowers and some shrubbery, the works.

Not only that, now that Blub lived in this really big tank, she got him a mate. They called him Spot. Probably because fish number two had a dark patch right in the middle of his head.

The years passed. Blub and Spot swam happily in their tank until one day Blub swam no more. He was found floating one morning, indicating that he had moved on to a bigger and better ‘ocean’.

Great, I thought, one down, one to go. Spot wasn’t happy being all on his own, even I could see that. He ‘sat’ in his little corner of the tank, not doing much of anything. It wouldn’t be long before he too departed to that bigger ‘ocean’. I couldn’t wait.

And what did mom do? Instead of helping things along and making fish and chips one day, she arranged for company for Spot. Not one fish, but three of them.

I admit, the new additions are tiny, barely the size of one of my claws, but if memory serves me correctly, those tiny things are gonna grow.

Oh why couldn’t she bring home a nice big fat mouse?