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Sometimes we all must wonder if some celestial power isn't looking down and thinking, "Things are kind of dull for these poor humans. Let's see if we can't get our faithful servants, the pets humans foolishly think they control, to liven things up a bit." I mean, there's no way these little hairy varmint critters could come up with this stuff spontaneously, is there?
Take this morning--Please! Patty and I were sprawled out on the sofa with the recliners kicked back, reading and grooving. I was surrounded by dogs taking their leisure, and Patty was covered with cats.
Before she sat down my long-suffering wife thought it would be nice to have her Chinese water dragon join us. A Chinese water dragon looks like a svelte iguana, minus the attitude. She plopped down with Splash, the Cwd, perched on her shoulder, eyes closed and sound asleep. Soon Cherokee hopped up on the footrest between her knees, Samantha crawled up onto her lap, and Pussy stretched out next to her. Peace reigned in Chez Yehudah.
Wretch that I am, I cannot leave well enough alone. The Devil made me reach over and poke Samantha with Splash's long, pointy tail, then snatch the tail back before she saw it. Sam predictably blamed it on Cherokee and swatted him on the butt. Cherokee leaped to the defense, startling Patty who hadn't been aware anything was going on. Look in the dictionary under 'alert' and there will be no mention of Patty there, except maybe as an antonym.
Patty snapped upright to quell the insurrection, causing Splash to leap for safety. She must define 'safety' as 'catback,' because she landed right square in the middle of the incipient cat fight in Patty's lap. Splash has incredibly sharp claws, and with good reason she dug in and hung on.
Now when cats in the same household, who have known each other for any length of time, get into a fight, it develops gradually, escalating into a few half-hearted jabs, hisses, and snarls, then settles down to growls and threats of what's going to happen the next time they tangle. But you throw a needle-clawed lizard into the fray, things develop instantly into a melee, with all cats involved trying to whip all other cats involved, spurred on by said lizard leaping around hell-bent for leather on top of the pile like Fred Astaire riding an avalanche.
We couldn't even tell how many cats were involved, so tangled were they. Patty just sat there and cussed (Potty mouth!) with her arms waving wildly about trying to keep out of the battle with her own hide intact.
Almost instantly the battlefield ceased being her lap and became my lap. Mac went from innocent bystander to innocent victim of an apparent drive-by mugging and shoved for the safety of the pet door and a back yard that didn't have any cats in it. Splash bailed, climbing my face and scalp, digging in those deadly claws every step of the way and eliciting comments from me that matched Patty's word for word for indelicacy of expression. When I raised my arm to dislodge that mangy lizard, Toby took that as a signal to attack. There was an insurrection of some kind going on, and he didn't want to get left out. He sank those puppy teeth into the fleshy part of the back of my arm just above the elbow, so that instead of brushing Splash out of my hair, I convulsively grabbed her around the middle, causing her to dig in and hang on. Between her and the pup I almost got scalped.
That's not all; the cats were still going after it hot and heavy in my lap, with Pussy digging in her claws and doing her imitation of a teenager trying to squeal the tires on his daddy's car, Sam biting me on the leg, and Cherokee holding the pile down and 'helping' the other two, contributing an occasional swat, most of which landed on me.
Patty hollered, "Knock it off!" in the tone that terrifies even the most rambunctious kindergartner, and everybody froze in place. She then threw a glass of ice water on the cats, most of which landed on me, and everybody scattered. Toby jumped down and joined Mac, the lizard climbed the curtains and clung there just out of reach, and the cats disappeared.
Patty stood there with her hands on her hips and glared at me.
"You started this!"
"I did not!"
"Did, too!"
"Did not!"
I went and changed my pants, and she settled back down on the couch. I had to sit in a chair to apply the Neosporine and Band-Aids, because my end of the couch was wet. But every so often I'd feel this "Zap!" and look up to see her watching me.
Things sure are quiet around here; wonder what I can do to liven things up. . .
Editor's note:
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