Where do the cats sleep? That’s always a question of interest around our house. Where is their current hammock?
Dax has really taken to the new cat tree, as it is more of a kitty time share. But at night, he and iCat like to sleep in our near our bedroom.
This morning, I found Dax in our closet, occupying the spot that a trumpet normally does.
This was the scene in my office this afternoon. I have these windows blocked off with felt material to try and insulate the windows. They are single pain windows. It lets in quite a draft in the winter. It makes it quite warm during the summer. It lets in a lot of noise one way or the other. It has flags hung over the felt as a matter of décor.
Rewind about twenty minutes…
I was talking to Tara for a few minutes, and then started looking for the cats. They were not in her sitting room. They were not behind the easy chair. They were not in the kitchen or the utility room. They were not in the guest bedroom. I looked under our bed and it appeared like they might be in the box springs. Ok. Fine.
I went back in my office. After a few minutes, I start hearing some noises that appear like they are coming from outside, and I think Tara stepped out for a second. Then out of nowhere, I see iCat between the computer and the TV down on the floor in front of me at the office door. I look back, and there is M sitting on the table behind me, having just come out of the opening in the window sill.
I guess that makes their commando operation a success. That also gives me another hiding place to look for them when they’ve disappeared and can’t hear where they are.
Both of the cats were outside last night.
iCat was out wandering around and was on the sidewalk between my car and the yard retainer wall. My wife was taking pictures of the space station as it was passing overhead. At one point, she walked down to a point where it scared iCat. That crazy cat leapt the retainer wall in “rapture kitty” fashion, with at least a good three or four inches to spare, and back on the yard.
M, on the other hand, I was holding on to. He doesn’t do so well with outside. When walking back in to the house, M was over my shoulder, and Tara was coming in behind me with the camera and tripod. As she started to come in to the light being shone from the porch, M gradually got freaked out. Now I have four areas of scrape marks and puncture wounds. Hah! We think he was frightened thanks to the tripod.