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They're at it again. This morning the apartment was kind of chilly, so the little hairy varmint critters went back to bed. I stepped into the bedroom, and there were Mac and Willoughby curled up in the comforter trying to get warm.
Willoughby decided he needed a pat on the head and some ear skritches, so he trotted over to me. Just as he got to the edge of the bed, there was a loud, unfriendly hiss from a lump right under his feet. He froze in mid stride, one paw still in mid air and turned his head to see what the sound was. He was standing right on the lump.
The lump hissed again, louder, then growled. Willoughby looked up at me as if to ask, "Wonder who that could be?" He backed up a couple of steps and sniffed at the comforter, then came toward me again. This time there came several sounds from under his feet, all of them ominously nasty-tempered. Suddenly he gave a little jump and came down hard with all four feet on the by-now-yowling-and-screeching lump, then ducked behind Maccabee.
Sasha came boiling out from under the comforter spoiling for a fight. She stared at poor Mac and made a swipe at his nose; luckily she missed, although how she could have is hard to imagine. Mac has quite a nose. Mac crawfished back under the covers until he, too, was just a lump. Willoughby stayed behind him, out of Sasha's sight.
Grumbling and growling, she leaped to the floor and trotted quickly into the other room. Willoughby sat up and gave her retreating back the bird, but I noticed he waited until she wasn't looking.
Editor's note:
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