The Slow But Steady March of Kitty Curiousity

The animal contingent was left alone to amuse itself this weekend while Josh and I recreated in Acadia. We came home to find many small, polished stones scattered all throughout the downstairs of our house. In another life, these stones decorated the base of a zenlike candle arrangement that sits in the center of our dining table. I call it a dining table, but it really ends up being more of a mail-and-other-shit-we-don't-feel-like-dealing-with-right-now collection surface. The stones are now kitty toys. They have been co-opted, requisitioned by the armies of kitty boredom, and we will never see them again.

I wouldn't mind if they played with the stones only while we are out, but the 5am game of stone soccer that little Angostura Binders played today is not an acceptable use of anyone's time. Josh said that when she finally came back into the bedroom, she was exhausted and fell over into sleep, apparently spent from a long predawn morning of making loud noises by batting small stones all over the floor downstairs. When I call her a little shit, it's with a loving undertone. I swear.