In preparation for a gathering of the descendant*, and the cobwebs having gotten rather out of control, I bought a new Sessions** this morning, my old one having (1) gotten rather messed up some time ago, and (2) been left out on the patio.
When I picked it up this morning, Southmoon and Top Hat promptly fled. Huckleberry was cautiously inquisitive. I'll show him! Brandishing the Long-Handled Cat Tickler, I tickled the cat for a while.
This, it seems, was a mistake. When I then proceeded to tickle the cobwebs, Huckleberry was dashing around trying to get to where the tickleball was, in Maximum Play Mode.
Now, if I could just teach him to jump up into the high corners and sweep up the cobwebs with his fur....
* All one of her.
** Or that other name that comes up as an autosuggest after "FBI director William"***.
It's a two-bodied cat! The shaggy body is Top Hat; the one that matches the head is Huckleberry.
A bit over a week ago:
Everyone out under the avocado tree while the house is flea-bombed. The youngsters are in a big dog cage. That blue thing behind it is a foldable dog crate. If memory serves, it's meant to be a medium-sized dog crate.
A few days before that:
When she's not dreaming of being a mountain lion or perhaps a Siberian tiger, Southmoon sometimes contemplates a career as a seat cushion.
Yeah, we finally resorted to flea bombing the house yesterday afternoon (before winter comes).
I'd bought a 3-pack of flea foggers quite some time ago, but hadn't gotten organized about evacuating the house, shutting down gas appliances, and spending a half-day outdoors.
Well, yesterday was The Time. So, all out back, under the avocado tree. Cats in a large borrowed cage (except Old Piggy, who was on a harness and leash; the youngsters were in no mood to have harnesses put on them, and besides thay can have the harnesses off in under a minute). Tinga in her sleep cage. People hanging around however, keeping an eye on the critters.
The cagèd cats were exceedingly unhappy at first, but eventually settled down, sort of.
During the airing-out time, it was time to relight the water heater and the wall furnace. Water heater, no problem (it's practically new, and has the modern convenience features). Furnace... um. What with occasional cool nights having persisted right through the summer, I hadn't shut down the furnace, so it hadn't had its fall relighting ceremony (which would normally be around now anyway). Time to clean out the dust, and the huge accumulation of cat hair in the bottom, then light it.
The house having been aired out, 'twas time to bring the critters back in... and when the cage started moving, the cats panicked. Huckleberry got so freaked out, he attacked Top Hat. Once the cage was indoors, and the cats released, Top Hat ran and hid in my office, and Southmoon hid for a while in the hall closet, while Huckleberry stayed in the living room looking uncharacteristically angry.
Oh, well. They're back to normal now. Almost time for their next dose of flea birth control pills, to avoid the next cycle....
So there I was, sitting at my workbench, soldering iron in hand, poking at a board supplied by the toaster company in preparation for observing its behavior (which is not well documented, and I need to do something very much like it).
Huckleberry ran in, jumped up on the bench (narrowly missing the hot soldering iron), paused a moment, then jumped down and ran off.
This is unusual behavior. What's got him all wound up?
Nothing exciting in the living room, nor visible through the front door.
Nothing exciting in the garage.
Oh, ICK. Somebody's horked up, copiously, all over the bed.
Old Piggy is sitting there looking guilty, but I'm not convinced that much barf could come out of such a small cat, even if she is the one who usually has that problem.
So... bottom sheet goes in the hamper. Top sheet too, just because. Blanket will need a trip to the laundromat. Mattress pad is of the electric persuasion... well, it does have laundry instructions. Guess I'll hand-wash it, and put it out on the patio (or, better, suspended above the patio) to dry; fortunately, the weather is conducive to such a thing. Hey, maybe I'll hand-launder and sun-dry the blanket too.
Quick revision: I didn't believe it was Piggy? Now I'm pretty sure it was. As I was composing the preceding paragraph, I spotted her heading back toward the now-unprotected bed, and told her to keep off. A moment later, she was puking all over the floor (a vinyl-covered area for a change). Not as much as had been on the bed, but quite a lot.
Update: Having the mattress pad in the laundry (I think there's an old non-electric one around here somewhere, but well buried) makes me notice that the old mattress is in even worse shape than I thought. As in, at the bottom of the hip-shaped concavity, there's something pointy poking up, just below the surface. Oh, well: not about to replace it at this point, when I'm seriously looking at relocating; hauling a new mattress across the country wouldn't make a lot of sense.
Update 2: On stripping the bed in preparation for re-installing the mattress pad, I observe that the pokey item is in fact the end of a spring that's actually worn through the cover of the mattress and is positively sticking out when a bit of weight is applied. For temporaries, this is a job for the handyman's secret weapon!