Beginning to remember what it was like to have two small creatures in the house. No, no, not Hoto (Hoto cleans up), nor Steph (Notes from inside my head))....although Sparx, with the spud, is reminding me of those days. No - now it is the ex-barn cats who seem to think they have died and gone to heaven - the kibble appears as if mana, the house is warm, there are no other cats to compete with, and the dog thinks they are little angels come to enhance her life experience. Ya, right. The net result is that the kibble is devoured at midnight or later (loud crunchy sounds) followed by a visit to the latrine (loud scratching sounds accompanied by the swish of kitty litter hitting the carpet at high velocity), followed by the necessary play time (thundering paws down the hardwood floors, along with the scrabbling effect when one goes around a corner too fast). The bags under my eyes are sagging further and further down my cheeks - maybe they will mistake me for a bloodhound and decide I am just another dog to tease....
Oh God, one of them has just found the stash of remotes on the side table and is distributing them around the living room....dumb dog, can't she keep two small kittens under control??
And, of course, we are heading into an Alberta winter, so the likelyhood of them going outside to play and get rid of all that feline energy is getting vanishingly smaller...
Maybe one of my clients will have a job for me in South America....
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