Denise got up Sunday morning to feed the cats. She coddles 'em, so they always pester her in the morning. We were out of dry stuff, so she was gonna put a few cans of wet food down so they'd leave us the hell alone for while. Next thing I know she's callin' to me from the hallway and sayin' "Come look at this."
It seems the kitties had a bit of an unsanctioned meal last night. Which is cool, but they brought it IN the house before they plucked it and consumed it.
That's my second bedroom, by the way. Basically, it's the cat's room. The one we sleep in is next door.
One of them must have caught himself a blue Jay. They love to dive bomb my chillin. Every now and then one will get a little too bold, dive a little too low and end up lookin' like it's been run through a wood chipper. No doubt, after plucking it out of the air, one of my little killers brought it in through the cat door and proceeded to dispatch and consume it, without ether of us hearing the commotion. We were sound asleep.
The little bastard left a mess, all over the place.
I looked, but there was no head. Sometimes we find a head layin' there on the carpet. This time it was just feathers, and wing bits. A massacreeee, I'm tellin' ya.
Meanwhile, the kids just napped the day away. It was wet and cold outside, so they were all spread out around the house.
I know Mushy... Pffft! As to which one of them did the killin', there no way to know. I'm NOT gonna follow them all around and check their stool for feathers. It could have been any one of them. They're all street cats. Only barely socialized. savage killers, all of 'em.
It's kinda cool, livin' with a four legged street gang. Thugs and toughs, born and raised in a parking lot.
Well, that's it. I spent too much time in there takin' pictures, so Mrs. Hissy, the Empress dowager of the gang, decided to go outside. That cat door keeps me from havin' to let them in, and then let them out, and then let them in again, all friggin' day long. Any cat owner can relate.
It was my job then to bust out the vacuum and erase the evidence. I had to use the hose and get up all the wispy little downy feathers from under the bed. Then Denise and I both settled down in the living room and I built another fire in the fire place.
We'd enjoyed one Saturday night while watching college football. We drank a few adult beverages and ate whatever we could find to heat up from the fridge. The last of the Thanksgiving leftovers were mixed into a British dish called Bubble-n-Squeak: mashed taters, peas and such, mixed up and fried in a skillet. I nuked some Little Smokies, covered and tossed in some good honey BBQ sauce, and Denise also made some great Queso from scratch. We busted out some toothpicks and chips and had a great, cozy night in front of the fire.
Sunday morning, I made her some milk coffee, and myself some hot chocolate while we watched the second of the three Lord Of The Rings movies, The Two Towers. Denise has never seen any of them. I've seen them all many times, and love them all.
She huddled under the covers on the couch in the morning while the fire got going and her milk coffee cooled a bit. While the complex, interwoven story on the television unraveled, she'd ask me questions like "Where are those kids?" and "Who's that guy?" and "Is he a good guy or a bad guy?" I'd answer "They're not kids. They're Hobbits, and they're with Treebeard," and "He's Aragorn, and yes, he's very good... and that's his wowman there, with the pointy ears. Just watch the movie dammit!" It drives me nuts, the way she does that.
By the afternoon, the film was over and the next one was starting, but so was the pro football. So we began to switch back and forth between different games, and I kept puttin' new logs on the fire. The evenings football turned ugly as I watched my Cowboys suck it up, AGAIN, against the Giants. Then we watched the Cardinals come alive against the Vikings. Denise was happy to see my teams go under, but then she had to watch her boy suck it up. Let's hope her team (the Packers) makes at least a decent showing for itself tonight.
Anyway, Here I sit, waitin' for her to get home and stokin' the fire. No San Saba today, so I get to relax and enjoy the day. The Kill Bill movies are on Spike, so I've got them goin' on in the background while I surf the web and type this. I'd be cookin' dinner, but we went to Great Wall and stuffed ourselves on Chinese food for lunch, so it'll probably just be snacks for dinner tonight.
Well, y'all try to have a great week. I've got a lot of time on my hands, so I'll probably be postin' somethin' in a while. Somethin' ta do. Cheers!
Monday, December 07, 2009
I'm tellin' ya, it was a massacreeee!
Posted by FHB at 5:20 PM
Labels: a massacreee, killin' time
4 comments:
Just another reason I'd stay in a motel if I ever made it by! You probably would have shooed them out and not told me too!
Pwwtt!
Steve's finally died...after a hundred years so we eat over there again!
Sorry! Mine get in TWICE each day, for about 15-minute "chow-calls". The rest of the time they're out in the machine shed rafters, takin' out any "freeloaders"! Sometimes in the winter months, we let 'em in for a while longer, if they lay down an' snooze!
But I'll give ya' credit---you stayed on-subject, here! It started with the original massacre, an' ended with another of your own...!
Mushy - That's why I didn't offer to put you up. I knew you'd be pissin' and moanin' the whole time.
And give Steve my condolences.
Bruno - Yea, mine killed all the mice and field rats in the area when I first moved in. Now and then one is fool enough to let them see it. We find them headless in the yard.
And yea, the day began with a mess and ended with another. Friggin' Cowboys.
AW, HELL!!! I'd completely forgotten all about those COWBOYS! But, far be it for someone like ME, to rub that salt right in that open, festering sore they call a "Cowboy-Loss"!
Well, at least they didn't lose to the Raiders.(almost!)
Romo done quite well last season, with that "distracting Jessica Simpson" in the crowd.
He must've went GAY on us! Hey, whatever "twists your shaft"!
Like YOU'D say:"Hey, I'm just sayin'!".....
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