BREAKING NEWS!!!
A BABY HAS BEEN BORN!
IT'S ON DOUGIE'S BLOG!!
CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL!!!
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If you've been here awhile, you've heard of Millhouse. Our 17-year-old cat with serious anger issues.
I have given him his own label, over there to the left, in case you want to read up on him, but a couple of my favourites are located here and here.
He's been almost polite lately. Glaring at guests, but from a distance. Growling, but not leaping. Warning, but not attacking.
Until last Sunday morning.
Spike had a gig, and when he arrived home late at night, he had our nephew with him. Punk, as I lovingly and embarrassingly refer to him, opted to sleep on the couch. It's either there or in the basement, with the random toilet. No one wants to sleep near the random toilet. I don't know why.
Punk is well aware of Millhouse's malevolent attitude towards all things living. But I assured him that Mill would not be allowed near him, and he trusted me. (That may have been a mistake on his part.)
We kept Mill in our bedroom all night, which he was pretty happy about. We could have shut him in the bathroom, but he has a tendency to hurl his body at the door over and over again, trying to get out, and since the couch is just on the other side of that door, it could really traumatize a Punk that is trying to sleep. Plus, when Mill does that, Spike and I tend to holler at him from our bed, which could also be disturbing to overnight guests.
In the morning, when I got up, I took Millhouse with me. I don't want to get too specific, but let's just say that when I was behind closed doors - so was he. And all was well. Until he had to go. You know - "go". So I took him downstairs where he "goes" and then I came up with a brilliant idea. Just block the stairs so he can't come back up, and then I can go on with my morning, and Punk can sleep in peace. I've done it before, successfully.
What could possibly go wrong?
So that's what I did. Used all of Spike's guitars and gear to block every possible exit from the stairs. Went into the bathroom, and closed the door. Not more than 5 minutes later, came back out to get something, and there was Millhouse curled up on the floor in front of the door. I glanced hopefully over to the couch where Punk was ... no longer sleeping. Crud.
"Hey....good morning," I said nervously.
"Morning," he answered, waiting for the obvious question.
"So....I guess Mill got by the barricades?" I asked, trying not to alarm him.
"Yup," he said.
"He didn't ... um ... bother you, did he?" I asked.
"Yup," he said.
"Oh no," I groaned. "What happened?"
Turns out that Millhouse perhaps didn't realize there was a body on the couch. My best guess is that he was fully unaware of it until he jumped on top of that body. And so when Punk opened his eyes, to discover why his stomach had just caved in, he found my loving cat, standing on top of him, hissing and growling violently into his face from just a few inches away.
Punk's a pretty calm dude though. He doesn't freak out easily. He reported matter-of-factly - "I just eyeballed him until he got off me!"
