Today Jinksy and Claudia were perched on top of one of the bookcases in the living room--a room where the ceiling is fairly high, and the bookcases reach to within maybe a foot and a half of it--and I went over to say hi to them.
I don't have the faintest idea how it happened, because it happened fast, but Jinksy, bless his paws, managed to topple right off.
We keep being a bit nervous that the kittens are going to try jumping from there; it might be a doable height for them now, but there are things like end tables just below which would make for awkward landings. But this was no jump. He just fell. O_O
I've always been about as athletic as a stump, even when I was taking dance classes, and my reflexes aren't great. But I caught him before he fell more than halfway, which I was a bit proud of once my heart stopped racing. Jinksy was mildly puzzled by the whole thing, and carried on with his day with no ill effects.
[This post brought to you by an attempt to think about something other than provincial politics. And also to use one of the super-basic icons I made of the kittens!]
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