The Boy has made exciting progress in the basement. Now we have an actual door-shaped hole in the wall of the laundry room. For months, I have had to continue walking around the basement to use the old door or duck through the small hole in the wall. Of course I was always wearing dark jeans whenever I lost my balance and touched the chalky edges of the hole. So I very much like the bigger hole. Kitten Thunder thinks it is less fun this way.

The other day, I went to walk through the new hole in the wall and found Obi hanging by two fingers from a wire from the ceiling. Then he fell to the floor, thumping against the washing machine on his way down. I followed him out to the hallway and subjected him to an inspection. No cuts. No sore spots. Just a mad kitten.

I attempted to scold him for his behavior. He flicked his tail at me as he strolled up the stairs.

As if world champion rock climbers don’t fall down if their mother walks into the room and screams about it.



On Friday, the brown kitten was feeling compelled to get into the ceiling again. I thought I had him talked out of it and left him in the window while I finished getting dressed. Then I heard the big noise. It was a weird noise.

I paused. I listened.

Obi cried.

I rushed over to the hole in the wall and immediately noticed the piece of wood across the doorway. Obi was sitting on the washing machine looking angry.

He’d decided to jump for the ceiling where The Boy had run the new lights for the spare room. Neither the trim along the ceiling, nor the vertical stud on which it had been sitting, were attached to the wall all that well. Certainly not well enough to support a ten pound kitten with velocity. The Boy said – when he got home and I showed him what the kitten had done – that he hadn’t thought that would be a problem for one day. He was wrong. Obviously.

Obi does not approve of shoddy workmanship.

Especially if it makes it look like the brown kitten didn’t make his jump.

Bad Boy.


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