I went upstairs to brush my teeth today, followed closely by Kitten Thunder. Oliver insisted he needed in The Boy’s closet. It was life or death. His whole happiness depended on it.
I didn’t open the door.
Plan B, for Oli, was the linen closet. He HAD to get in the linen closet. Life or death. Yadda yadda yadda. This time it worked. I opened the closet.
While Oliver was contemplating his strategy for jumping into the closet, Obi strolled up and leapt to the bottom shelf. He plunked down on the kitteh blanket. Oliver looked to me – from the floor – for his next move.
I lifted Oli to the second shelf. As I placed him there he tried to get on the top shelf. “You’re going to have to get down eventually; it will hurt if you jump from the top shelf,” I said to the grey kitten. He was not dissuaded. I put him on the top shelf.
With Oliver’s promotion came discontent from the bottom shelf. I moved Obi to the middle shelf where he discovered there is no kitteh blanket. I moved him back to the bottom shelf. Oliver watched from on high.
Oli looked around from his high up perspective. He contemplated the book shelves. He examined our winter blanket (which I’d forgotten and we’ll need it soon so this was five minutes well spent). He watched as Obi lost interest in the closet and left for a sunny spot on the cat shelf.
He was ready to get down.
He looked down to the floor. All the way down. Then he looked to The Girl. I held out my arms and he hopped into them, giving me a head-hug as I lowered him to the floor.
Future happiness, provided by yours truly.