The starting point is, generally, three cats (sometimes four) on or around the bed.
The objective is to get all three (or four) of them out of the bedroom, and perhaps as far as the living room.
Piggy isn't that much of a problem; if dislodged, she'll grouch off to the living room (or at least the office) under her own power.
The Three Monkeys, though: they take some herding.
I find that leading them with a long wiggly toy generally does the trick, though I then have to prop the toy somewhere and get back to the bedroom and close the door quickly, because Huckleberry thinks the game is "fetch."
Or, a laser works pretty well.
Yes, the three of them will chase the same toy or dot at the same time. But then they're littermates, so perhaps they flock better than a random assortment.
Afterthought: when trying to catch a pig, greased or otherwise, it is best not to be wearing big, clunky, noisy accessories that will scare the pig.
OK, the furnace is working overtime this clear winter night, but I've never known it to make that sound...?
What deviltry are those monkeys up to now?
Out of bed; pad out to the front of the house; find Huckleberry guarding the kitchen, looking slightly guilty**; look further, and there's Southmoon standing in front of the refrigerator, with magnets and photos scattered on the floor.
Well, that would explain it.
And, being as how I'm awake now, and it's not all that far from proper wake-up time, and I did go to bed rather early last night... I suppose I might as well declare morning.
* A very small clatter, actually; alas, the diminutive of the word might be misinterpreted.
** Yes, a cat looking guilty. My efforts to raise them as dogs have not been entirely futile.
I stopped at Trader Joe's on my way home from morning walkies, and picked up milk and whatnot, said whatnot including a bag of cat kibble - I like to give the critters a bowl each of two different types, and hadn't tried 'em on the Trader Joe's stuff before.
Arriving home, I set that bag on the floor, gave Tinga a treat, unpacked the people groceries... and in the space of a few minutes, mice had nibbled a hole in the cat-food bag.
Sorry, did I say mice? Huckleberry. It was Huckleberry who nibbled a hole in the bag.
So I opened the bag properly, poured some of the contents into Kibble Bowl #2... and Huckleberry headed straight back to the bag.
The varmints have also been getting into the box of kitty litter (not to be confused with any of the several kitty litter boxes), apparently thinking it's a fine plaything.
Looks like I gotta get some large plastic storage containers to protect the supplies of kibble, litter, and suchlike. Or a cat-supply safe.
I'm being lazy and going with default options here, so click to embiggenate, should you so desire.
All three of the little fuzzballs, hiding among the blueberries.
Huckleberry and Top Hat, still outdoors; Southmoon is out of frame. Huckleberry's namesake is on the left.
Just brought indoors. Characteristically, Huckleberry is looking at the camera, while Top Hat is more interested in the food bowl. (Yes, there's water in there too; it's out of frame. Litter pan came a few minutes later, and they promptly figured out what it was for.)
Larger accommodations, including a proper litter box.
The critters begin to explore the living room.
Southmoon can't keep up the fierce scary wild facade when she's sleepy.
Resting on the sofa after a hard day's play. Getting bigger, aren't they?
Top Hat goes for a ride in the time machine.
Huckleberry interrupts my breakfast.
Top Hat, in a characteristic pose.
Ya monkeys make it hard to get any work done!
The new cat tree, before they shook everything loose.
Huckleberry and Southmoon check out the Bridgeport.
Huckleberry tries to stow away in my laptop case, neglecting to leave room for the laptop.
Southmoon likes shopping bags.
Top Hat, in another of her funny poses.
Southmoon infests my workbench. All three of them have been known to do this; it's usually Huckleberry.
Huckleberry keeps doing this.
Yeah, Top Hat still does the dead-bug pose.
Huckleberry thinks he can get into Tinga's cage by hiding in her food bowl. This hasn't worked yet.
Southmoon and Huckleberry. Office chair for scale.
Top Hat makes a fine warm fuzzy slipper.
Being a year old now, the critters are subject to the employee ID badge requirement. Here, Top Hat models hers. Huckleberry keeps removing his, and hiding it.