Bitters 2, Cats 0
So, I come home early. Traffic was very nice, due to the number of people who stayed in due to weather this morning.
The ride was good,a s I was fuelled by a fairly good day at work, having just finished a motivational book (those are good for a few days worth of "High"), and listening to Rush at a very high volume on the Smart Radio (that thing is nice hwen you get the volume up). Got home. Came in. Khem came to say hello. Ra came to say hello. I went into the kitchen, got the Club House Greek started and got the cat food out. Fed Ra. Put down Khem's cat food. Got out... Where's Ozzy?
At this point, I noticed a certain kitten shaped void in the universe. Ozzy had yet to make his presence known, which was weird because, well, he's ALWAYS there.
The Bitter Guy searches high. Was that a thump? No Ozzy.
The Bitter Guy searches low. No Ozzy.
The Bitter Guy becomes... Concerned.
When a cat dissapears you don't really notice. THey come and go as they will. When you look from high to low, not finding them, and then they don't show up when food is taken out? You worry. Hence, The Bitter Guy became concerned.
Snra came home, and was appraised of Ozymandias-who-was-Caleb (his full name; it wounds much better in the original AEgyptian) absence. Concern continues. The Bitter Guy checks the snow outside the house for tiny paw tracks. The Bitter Guy considers donning his coat and going door to door asking the neighbours if they've seen a small grey & white catling.
The Bitter Guy searches under the bed. Nothing. On top of the armoire. Nothing. In the basement, in the laundry room, in the downstairs crawlspace.
Downstairs crawlspace. Do we have another crawlspace? Upstairs? Besides, for example, the stairs, where YHB heard a mysterious thump?
A quick sprint up the stairs (a leisurely stroll, perhaps. I'm not as hale and hearty as I used to be) to the bedroom. Open the closet (previously searched, yas), open the trapdoor to the crawlspace behind the bedroom, and there are a pair of glowing feline eyes staring back.
Little fuck.
Of course, him having been crawling around the crawlspace means he's covered in dust. (Snra explains his actions by saying "Cats are naturally curious", to which I reply "a state not traditionally associated with good fortune on their part.")
So we get to... wash another cat. Previously, we had to clean up Khem Khat's paws, which was fun AND wound causing. Tongiht, it as the full shampoo.
Thankfuly, Ozzy was much easier to bathe than Khem. Thankfully. No blood was shet, and he got cleaned and towelled off.
Then, we had dinner & watched Lost. God, I love that show.
The ride was good,a s I was fuelled by a fairly good day at work, having just finished a motivational book (those are good for a few days worth of "High"), and listening to Rush at a very high volume on the Smart Radio (that thing is nice hwen you get the volume up). Got home. Came in. Khem came to say hello. Ra came to say hello. I went into the kitchen, got the Club House Greek started and got the cat food out. Fed Ra. Put down Khem's cat food. Got out... Where's Ozzy?
At this point, I noticed a certain kitten shaped void in the universe. Ozzy had yet to make his presence known, which was weird because, well, he's ALWAYS there.
The Bitter Guy searches high. Was that a thump? No Ozzy.
The Bitter Guy searches low. No Ozzy.
The Bitter Guy becomes... Concerned.
When a cat dissapears you don't really notice. THey come and go as they will. When you look from high to low, not finding them, and then they don't show up when food is taken out? You worry. Hence, The Bitter Guy became concerned.
Snra came home, and was appraised of Ozymandias-who-was-Caleb (his full name; it wounds much better in the original AEgyptian) absence. Concern continues. The Bitter Guy checks the snow outside the house for tiny paw tracks. The Bitter Guy considers donning his coat and going door to door asking the neighbours if they've seen a small grey & white catling.
The Bitter Guy searches under the bed. Nothing. On top of the armoire. Nothing. In the basement, in the laundry room, in the downstairs crawlspace.
Downstairs crawlspace. Do we have another crawlspace? Upstairs? Besides, for example, the stairs, where YHB heard a mysterious thump?
A quick sprint up the stairs (a leisurely stroll, perhaps. I'm not as hale and hearty as I used to be) to the bedroom. Open the closet (previously searched, yas), open the trapdoor to the crawlspace behind the bedroom, and there are a pair of glowing feline eyes staring back.
Little fuck.
Of course, him having been crawling around the crawlspace means he's covered in dust. (Snra explains his actions by saying "Cats are naturally curious", to which I reply "a state not traditionally associated with good fortune on their part.")
So we get to... wash another cat. Previously, we had to clean up Khem Khat's paws, which was fun AND wound causing. Tongiht, it as the full shampoo.
Thankfuly, Ozzy was much easier to bathe than Khem. Thankfully. No blood was shet, and he got cleaned and towelled off.
Then, we had dinner & watched Lost. God, I love that show.