Monthly Archives: September 2014

Not a Big Deal

As you know, me leaving the house is generally unacceptable in Kitten Thunder’s opinion. So I was very casual about getting up at way too early this morning and getting dressed while the kittehs ate breakfast.

No big deal.

Nothing to worry about.

The kittehs were not fooled. They pulled out the big guns.


Obi casually made himself at home in my lap while I was drinking coffee. No big deal. Not a big thing for my unsnuggly brown kitten to show up instead of the super snuggle grey kitten.

And he wouldn’t leave. I petted. I kissed. I took his picture. Nothing would move Obi from his post. No torture was great enough to convince him that he’d rather have me leave.

He was holding me down at all costs.

Alas, it was all for nothing. Here I sit at a conference.

We both wish he’d won.



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.

Chicken Sticks

Poor Obi has no toys.

I mean, yes, he has a cave. And a pink fuzzy. And the funky chicken. And flat mousie. And an egg – plus the chicken that goes with the egg. But other than that, he has no toys.

So The Boy got out the magic toy making sick and waved it under the love seat. He found the rubber mouse ball. Obi tried to play with it, but it was boring. Until it rolled under the love seat again. Then he wanted it back! The Boy rescued it. But it was boring.

Poor Obi has no toys.

So The Girl opened the coat closet and found the other flat mousie. Obi took it and ran over to the quilt. He plunked down with flat mousie, and other flat mousie, and pink fuzzy, and the funky chicken.

But poor Obi has no toys.

For a little while Obi had a moth. He chased it and hopped and ran around the living room. He chased the moth as it few against the window.


Then he ate the moth.

Poor Obi has no toys.

We had chicken kabobs for dinner. The Boy’s sticks were very fun. Both kittens ran their noses along the length of the sticks.


It was a lot of fun. But then The Boy threw the sticks away.

Poor Obi has no toys.