aaaagh
This morning, when I woke up and stumbled out of the bedroom, I spotted a little gray thing on the floor. "Huh," I thought, stumbling towards it, "what is that?"
And then I got close enough to realize that it was the Puki's wig. Let me tell you, I woke right up.
I grabbed the wig off the floor, made sure that it wasn't damaged--it was fine, just a little dusty--and then zipped downstairs to the office. I had no idea what I was about to find. My Puki in broken, cat-gnawed pieces, scattered over the floor? Half a Puki and a resin-poisoned cat? No Puki at all, his little broken body having been swatted under a bed or down a heat register?
My Puki was there, in an awkward sprawled position on the desk, wig and both hands missing. One of his hands was stuck to one of his foot magnets (... hee) and the other was on the rug under my chair, which accounted for all the parts, and there were no toothmarks on the Puki--no resin-poisoned cats, thank goodness. There were faint black marks on one arm and one brow ridge, most of which I've been able to get off--and one of his little white shoes is still missing.
As far as I can tell, one of the cats swatted the Puki off the desk while my husband was in here this morning and my husband put him back up on my desk, along with as many pieces as he could find. I've moved the Puki to a safer place and have cleaned him up a little--except for the black marks there appears to be no damage to his faceup or anything, hurrah--but I have no idea where to even start looking for that shoe.
Seriously. How does one go about finding a single Puki shoe when it could be anywhere in a three-bedroom house? I've looked in all the usual places already (and I still hold out hope that it'll turn up somewhere) but I suspect that I've seen the last of that shoe. Even assuming that a cat didn't chew it up or just flat-out eat it--they seem fine right now, but believe me, I'll be keeping an eye on them--I probably won't see that shoe again until we move out of here several years down the road.
Dammit, cat, those shoes are expensive!
And then I got close enough to realize that it was the Puki's wig. Let me tell you, I woke right up.
I grabbed the wig off the floor, made sure that it wasn't damaged--it was fine, just a little dusty--and then zipped downstairs to the office. I had no idea what I was about to find. My Puki in broken, cat-gnawed pieces, scattered over the floor? Half a Puki and a resin-poisoned cat? No Puki at all, his little broken body having been swatted under a bed or down a heat register?
My Puki was there, in an awkward sprawled position on the desk, wig and both hands missing. One of his hands was stuck to one of his foot magnets (... hee) and the other was on the rug under my chair, which accounted for all the parts, and there were no toothmarks on the Puki--no resin-poisoned cats, thank goodness. There were faint black marks on one arm and one brow ridge, most of which I've been able to get off--and one of his little white shoes is still missing.
As far as I can tell, one of the cats swatted the Puki off the desk while my husband was in here this morning and my husband put him back up on my desk, along with as many pieces as he could find. I've moved the Puki to a safer place and have cleaned him up a little--except for the black marks there appears to be no damage to his faceup or anything, hurrah--but I have no idea where to even start looking for that shoe.
Seriously. How does one go about finding a single Puki shoe when it could be anywhere in a three-bedroom house? I've looked in all the usual places already (and I still hold out hope that it'll turn up somewhere) but I suspect that I've seen the last of that shoe. Even assuming that a cat didn't chew it up or just flat-out eat it--they seem fine right now, but believe me, I'll be keeping an eye on them--I probably won't see that shoe again until we move out of here several years down the road.
Dammit, cat, those shoes are expensive!