What are these cats thinking? Part 1

It’s just another day in the life here at the old homestead. 3 cats, 1 human.

Stepping out of the shower I’m greeted by my “Bud”. Buddy has figured out that after the shower comes the hair dryer and he loves to have a blow dry to start the day.  A handsome fellow like Buddy has to look his best.

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Senior Cat Smokey, aka Mr. Cranky Pants continues his demanding ways. I’m working, Buddy and Rocky are sleeping but what’s that sound? A soft pitiful meow! Looking around I see a small bundle of gray fur curled at my feet, big eyes staring intently, “meow”.

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Only the tiniest of sounds. I ask what’s wrong and a paw reaches out to tap my leg. I stand and he uncurls, heading for the feeding station. Oh my, his bowl is only half full. Surely he will starve to death before it’s time for dinner.

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The laundry is on the first level. My condo, on the 2nd. As I open my door, arms full of clean clothes fresh from the dryer, a black and white streak nearly bowls me over and scoots down the stairs.

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I put my dry laundry on the couch and turn in hot pursuit. I see a black tail with white tip taking the bottom of the stairs and rounding the corner. I hit the bottom stair and round the corner only to see that tail disappear around the corner at the end of the hall.

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I race down there. I don’t want Buddy running into one of the dogs that live here or being let outside. As I round the last corner I see …nothing!

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My heart starts to pound. Slowly I begin climbing the stairs on that end of the hall. First flight, nothing, 2nd flight and there he is, sitting there on the landing, waiting for me.

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I pick up his Majesty and cradle him in my arms. Back down the 2 flights of stairs, back down the long hall and back up the last flight to my unit.

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I open the door, set the errant one on the floor and close the door very fast.

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I return to the couch to start folding the nice , warm, clean clothes only to find Rocky has made a nest and is curled up on top of the pile. Now every time I try to pull out a towel or shirt or sock I have to unhook his possessive claw. I try to shoo him away but he only digs in harder. He doesn’t give up until the last item is folded. Then he stalks away, annoyed that his warm bed was “stolen” from him.

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I turn to put the folded clothes in my basket to carry them all to be put away and come face to face with his Majesty again. This time he’s taken up residence in the clothes basket.

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I give up leaving him to play jail bird in the basket while I carry the  stacks of folded clothes to the bedroom. Finally, everything is put away but they aren’t done with me yet.

To Be Continued….

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