Sunday, November 23, 2008


So finally, after six years of cohabitation, the cats are working together.

I'm in the living room, half-watching the Colts-Chargers game as I work on my homework, and I hear a light rattle in the kitchen, as if something had been knocked off the counter. (ems volunteered to take my big-ass coat to the dry cleaners on her next trip, so I emptied my pockets on the counter.) No big deal, Calle sometimes forgets what she can and can't play with.

But then I heard a lighter rattle, almost like something was being batted on the floor. Time to investigate.

As I came into the kitchen, Calle was making her way along the counter by the sinks, as if to suggest that nothing was happening here, she was just passing through to see if perhaps I'd left any tuna on the counter, but it was too late. I could clearly see what was happening: there was a black-and-gray cat on the counter, carefully knocking stuff onto the floor, and a white-and-black cat on the floor, batting at each item to see if it was actually a toy.

Naturally, I'd prefer that they cooperate in other ways, like lying next to each other so that I don't have to Photoshop a Christmas card picture, but I guess this is a start ...

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