Wednesday, January 09, 2008


I could hear the rhythmic clinking of him licking the dishes. Pony Express had carefully laid our used bowls far back on the counter next to the sink. I vaguely thought I should go check on the whacko but the dishes were well back from the edge, it could wait.

Crash, tinkle, skid, whoosh!

Yeah. There's not enough counter in the world.

So my favorite meal bowls (pasta bowls I think they're really called) are gone. They are perfectly replaceable so it's no big deal. Well, except that they did cost money and I had to clean up shards of ceramic from all over my already filthy kitchen floor. Is it just my cats or do all cats have a supernatural ability to break things in such a way that the tiny shards spread farther and wider than one would think possible within the laws of physics? Perhaps you haven't had an opportunity to approach this question scientifically? Perhaps your cats don't routinely break shit that you like. I'm sorry your life is so dull.

The real problem is that my dustpan is AWOL. The apartment just isn't that big! How did I manage to lose it so exquisitely thoroughly? I don't get it. So picture me crawling around the floor with a full sized broom and a flattened cereal box. I think the universe wanted to make sure that I didn't feel too grown up.

If you could see Elvis now you'd be calling me a dirty liar. He's curled up next to me on the couch with his chin on his weirdly flexible back leg and his eyes half closed. One might think he's sleeping. But I've got Dexter in the DVD player. I think that cat is just taking mental notes.


  1. Gee, Kizz. I'm sorry your pasta bowls blew up.

  2. My kids can drop an "unbreakable" plate so perfectly on edge on the tile, that it does shatter into a million pieces. I am forever finding little shards from accidents of the past...

  3. Elvis! BAD kitty! BAD!!

  4. Wet a paper towel just so and ruin it along the floor of your kitchen. It gets up all the cat miracle shards of glass that will be painful later.
    Sorry about your bowls dear but I bet Elvis had a delicious laugh especially after the water fun.

  5. Run, run it along. God on the crutch. Type Gertrude.