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Snap! Crackle! Pop!

January 16, 2012
tags: ,

As I sat down at the computer this evening I heard an odd noise.  It seemed to come from the other room.  Or maybe I just imagined it.  I pushed it out of my mind and I began my nightly scheduled time of staring at a blank page on the computer screen.  It’s my pre-blogging ritual.

Pop!  There it was again!  A funny popping/snapping noise.  Mr. Sparky was sitting unperturbed in the chair next to the computer desk, reading.  There was a cat on his lap and a dog at his feet.  Mr. Sparky is pretty much the St. Francis of Assisi of the house.  I suspect it’s because knows where the food is kept, he has opposable thumbs, and he knows how to work them. It might also be because he is a 98.6 degree heating pad. Not that our pets have anything other than feelings of the greatest affection and devotion for Mr. Sparky’s good looks and scintillating personality, especially when they are hungry or chilly.

“What was that?”  I asked.

“That’s Doc chewing on bubble wrap” Mr. Sparky replied, without so much as batting an eye.

“Um…that’s maybe not so good for him to be chewing on”.

Mr. Sparky shrugged.  “He won’t leave the stuff alone.”

Dr. Love is quirky.  And by quirky I mean he sleeps in the shower, kitty-kicks the dining room chairs, plays fetch, and engages in odd little chase and pounce games with the dog.  If a cat in our house is doing dumb stuff, it’s Agent Mooshie.  If a cat in our house is doing weird stuff, it’s almost certainly going to be Dr. Love.

I went back to staring at the screen.  Pop!  I had visions of my poor cat struggling for breath because he’d managed to suck a piece of plastic down his windpipe.  Something had to be done about this.

I got up and went into the other room.  By the time I got there, Doc had already taken off and was hiding behind sofa.  I found a wad of bubble wrap under the dining room table.  I reached down and grabbed it.

“Ew!  This stuff is wet with cat slobber!”

“He likes it”.  Mr. Sparky was striking out on the Helpful Scale.

I looked at the slobbery wad of bubble wrap in my hand.  I looked at Dr. Thunderhead who was now sitting on the floor, watching  me play with his toy.  And I did what any sensible person would do.  I folded and rolled the bubble wrap into a manageable wad, and gave it a big hard twist.

PopPOPpopp! PopPop! PoppoppoPOP! Pop!

That cat couldn’t have flown out of the room any faster if he’d had wings.

I knew he would be perched on the stairs.  I went around the corner, still clutching the bubble wrap.  It still had a lot of life in it, if you didn’t count the cat slobber.  I knelt on the stairs where I could peek around the landing.  Yup, there he was.  “You want bubble wrap?  I’ll give you bubble wrap!”  Another twist.

POPpoppopppop! Pop! Poppoppop! POPpop!

He vaporized before my eyes and suddenly reappeared at the top of the stairs, peeking around the corner.  He didn’t want to stick around for the popping, but he didn’t want to miss it, either.  I, however, was done playing games with cat slobbery toys.  I threw the bubble wrap in the trash.

I really doubt he’s cured.

 

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