Our cat speaks to us. He whines when he wants petted or has been left alone all day long, he tattles to one parent when the other parent scolds him for something, he fusses at Ty when he wants free and Ty won't let him loose. He's a very vocal cat.
Except right now. We're giving each other the silent treatment and going out of our way to avoid the other.
He gets that from me. I'm an exceptional grudge-holder.
But it's his fault.
You see, we've been fighting him off of the top of Ty's chest of drawers since this past weekend. The cat can jump from the floor to the top of the chest of drawers. Which is why the chest of drawers is now sporting some scratches it didn't previoulsy have....
Link hates brooms. Seriously. If he hears us open the closet where we keep the vacuum and the broom at, he makes a mad dash for the nearest bed so he can hide under it.
And if by chance we sneak it out and he doesn't realize it, as soon as he lays eyes on it he hisses and arches his back and vanishes out the nearest doorway.
Since he hates brooms so much, as a deterrent we put the broom on the top of the chest of drawers. Which worked pretty well. Except that occasions arise when you need to use the broom as a broom and then--shock of shock--it gets put up where it belongs and not back where it was.
Which is why Link was unafraid to jump back on top of the chest of drawers last night while Jason and I were in the living room, unaware of his location.
Until we heard a crash that was immediately identifiable.
I should probably point out that--as a mom--I qualify for Super Hero status. Moms have Super Speed, Super Strength, Super Smarts, Super Hearing, Super Memory....you name it and we have a super strength in it.
Which is why I was able to make it into the room before Link could untangle himself from the fallen and now dissasembled mess of the gerbil cage and its contents.
Let's just say....between the noise of the crashing cage, the amount of noise that I made in response, and the involvement of a white "Just Married" flip-flop, I don't think the cat will be making that mistake again anytime soon. The look on his face when I came around that corner said as much, which is why he split for the nearest bed that allowed more than four feet of separation between me and him.
The gerbil was fine. She was smart enough not to make a dash for it and remained hidden in a little plastic cubbey part of her cage. She seems absolutely no worse for the wear, she got a sparkling clean cage and a fresh bowl of food. She's just minus the extra water bottle that I usually leave in the cage for her. We've searched the whole room over and can't find where it vanished to. We found the silver tip off the end of it though!
For the remainder of the night (as well as today) Link has kept his distance from me and eyed me warily. I think he's worried I might send another flip-flop in his general direction if he puts a paw out of line.
The husband suggested we just make The Boy keep the door to his room closed so it doesn't happen again, which I angrily vetoed. We'd made such concessions with the dog after she continually destroyed item after item after item with her chewing (which is why we can't enjoy our back yard...everything is put up in the shed until she grows out of her destructi-dog stage). I told him I refuse to allow a pet to rule how we live inside our home, too. So the door stays open. And if Link gets back up on top of that chest of drawers again, I'll just throw the book (or a flip-flop) at him until he learns otherwise.
But I have a feeling this will not be the last of Link's Not-So-Great Adventures.