Yesterday I heard some noise in the back of the downstairs closet and immediately thought Frica was in there. Because she was usually done doing whatever it was she was doing before I got there, this time I decided to sneak up quietly so I would not disturb her. (Why I thought this would work I have no idea, but it seemed like something Jane Goodall would do.) I crept slowly up to the door with my eyes focused on the far corner of the floor where the nest of under-the-rug thingys is. Call me anthropomorphic, but you will have a hard time convincing me that the cat did not wait until I was so engrossed to come flying at me from the shelf above where he was, I’m convinced, waiting to scare any and all excrement out of me.
Back in vet med practice it used to amaze how fast cats are. One minute they’ll be sitting on the exam table apparently oblivious to their surroundings, the next they have all four fangs embedded in the fleshy part of your thumb and you’re watching copious quantities of your own blood run down your arm. No such bodily harm in this case. Whittington is too cool and energy-efficient for that. All I saw was a streak of fur silently shooting by my hunkered down body, but that was enough. I was so startled, I tried to stand up and move backward at the same time, hit the closet door, knocked the broom and dustpan off it, and set off all the dogs who apparently thought this signaled the dreaded Attack of the Minor Cleaning Appliances that could herald the arrival of Darth Vacuum Cleaner. By the time everyone settled down, the cat was gone, no doubt evilly cackling under the couch.
In the world of the real aliens, all that happened was that Fric fluffed up a corner of the duvet on my bed for the alien before settling down to sleep somewhere else last night. She only had to go out once and it’s possible that the pups slept through. I had them out of the box on the rug for a while yesterday and they’re not looking nearly as much like fur-covered larvae as they were even the day before. Of the four, the female is the most adventuresome, but the males aren’t far behind. One of the brindles is so much more laidback, I can’t help laugh when I watch him. When he isn’t yawning, he always looks like he’s smiling.