Drew's Salon

Drew didn't always stick to jumping on furniture. My back has always been fair game, particularly whenever I cleaned litter pans. In the kitchen, I was a stepping stone to the counter. He would wait til I was in the middle of things, bound onto the kitchen table, cross to the microwave on the baker's rack, and bounce off my back to the counter. The first time he did it he nearly sent me face first into the pan.

When I cleaned the downstairs pan, Drew would wait on the stairs for the perfect moment, leap onto my back and happily purr as I scooped.  Occasionally his jumps were mistimed and I would have to react quickly or have him dangling by his claws from my shoulder blades. On one occasion I stood up, only to have my world go completely black. It was only when it registered that I had something soft & furry against me that I realised it was Drew. When I was finished scooping, I would then climb (read that "crawl") up the stairs with him still attached to me. Almost always gentle, with one paw around each side of my neck, he would rub my cheek with his.

Drew also had another little habit. Every night he would jump on my pillow to nuzzle and knead my head for hours as I slept. I'd awaken in the morning with the most amazing hairstyles. We called them "Drew Do's". I always knew when I had a particularly frightening one because Brighton's gaze would focus above my head. Usually with fear in his eyes. I swear cat drool is better than hair gel.

He doesn't give me the "Do's" as often as he used to, but he still likes to nuzzle in my hair in the evening when we watch tv, and occasionally supervises the scooping from my back.

The Perils of Bags with Handles

Bags with handles, and cats do not go together. Squeaky found this out the day she checked out a bag of dog cookies I'd brought home. The bag crinkled and my big girl took off down the hall, her new cape swinging side to side, flinging cookies against each wall as she went.

Martin also discovered the perils of plastic. I'm not sure where the bag came from, but I arrived in the living room, lunch in hand, just in time to witness the chaos unfold.

Starting out in front of me, Marty ran clockwise around the living room, loudly crinkling as he went. Those he ran past followed him, while those who heard him coming, ran ahead of him. The giant conga stampede of terrified felines, lept over furniture and headed in my direction. I felt the wind rush past me as they made a left into the dining room, taking out a tall hallogen lamp, which in turn, took out Betty's favourite pot pourri bowl before leaving a large dent in the wall.

Something else to fix....