So I came downstairs, fed the cats, started my coffee and then let said cats out onto the patio to explore, per usual. As I was enjoying my very quiet cup of early morning coffee and recording that highly insitant grocery list, I glanced out the window to see how the cats were doing on the patio.
There they were. Both of them. Nose to nose, down on the brick.
For Chrissakes, it's a walled-in 8x20 patio. What interloper could have possibly intruded upon their space? Reluctantly, I got up to check on their latest victim. As I pulled Mo back and peered over his pudgy shoulder, I saw a gray, fuzzy moth. Oh, a moth. Mo just looooves moths. Don't know why. It may be something about the wings that stick out of his mouth and flutter while he's eating the body. I'm not kidding. It's kind of fascinating (and yet insanely grotesque) to watch.
No wait. It was two moths. Stuck butt to butt. Yep, you've got it folks. They were "doin' it" (to quote my husband's beloved phrase). So, my two sweet cats had trapped two poor moths in their rapture, while they were completely unable to fly. Granted, it probably wasn't "rapture"...more utilitarian in nature, I'm sure But still...the idea just didn't sit well with me...being eaten while having sex. So I yelled, "Nooo. Bad kitties." And yanked them away.
It didn't take much persuasion for Bella, who hasn't quite the taste for moths. Plus, she scares easy. Mo, on their other hand, resisted. Mightily. Did I mention he loves moths? And two stuck together? Jackpot. But I did manage to pry him away and then went back to my grocery list.
A couple minutes later, I could see Mo in the living room. He was munching.
Oh, what the fu...?
Yeh. One and a half moths lay on the rug. The whole one was twitching. Eck.
After a "nonononono" to Mo (which I'm sure he didn't quite get since he was relatively peeved over losing his snack), I grabbed some paper towels to put Casanova out of his poor, twitching misery, all the while praying, "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry. Please Dear God, forgive me."
Later, Ari tracked a daddy long legs across the hallway floor. Eyes of a hawk, that one.
Things I've learned as a Mom and a Cat-Person
- A washable crayon really does wash out of pretty much everything. And I do mean everything.
- A skinny cat can and will jump and pin a frightened bat that is stuck in the house.
- Toilets hold a certain mystique for toddlers.
- Same with toilet paper.
- If a cat is sitting on you, very relaxed, and then quickly sniffs his butt and starts cleaning it...it's already too late.
- Left to his own devices, a toddler sitting in a grocery cart will stretch his tiny body a foot and a half to reach a Cadbury Egg sitting on a nearby shelf. I didn't witness this, as I was picking out butter at the time. A kind stranger told me.
- There's a certain meditative quality to Sesame Street.
- That crayon that washes out of everything...does not wash out of a Nalgene water bottle after being dropped in it yesterday.
- When you get up in the morning and the cats vacate rather than beg for breakfast...just brace yourself.
- Oh. And a crayon in a water bottle? Hilarious.