I was feeling mighty pleased with myself.
I was taking a photo in my family room. The photo's main purpose was to show my second-born that the Stendig calendar she'd given me for Christmas had been properly updated to the new month. A few days earlier in Columbus, Ohio, I'd helped her tear away her identical calendar halaman for January and I wanted her to see that I was now up to date as well.
As I prepared the shot, I realized that there was one thing missing from my scene - something that would take my photo from good to great. And as if she could read my mind, Gracie ambled into the room, precisely positioned herself on the couch right in front of me, and settled back into her nap.
Perfection.
I could not have posed her any better if I'd tried, and her fuzzy presence was the icing on my photographic cake.
Feeling very much the master of my domain, I snapped the picture.
And then I turned around.
To find my cats running amok in the kitchen.
As his brother, Sirius, looked on from the safety of his perch on a counter stool, halo firmly in place, my darling Luna stood on the forbidden kitchen counter, brazenly licking the coconut oil out of a cast iron skillet.
Now this wasn't exactly a Chernobyl-scale disaster. One abrupt "Hey!" from me sent the two cats skittering out of the room and up the stairs to their lair, and in two minutes' time, I'd scrubbed the pan clean and re-seasoned it with a fresh layer of coconut oil.
Just to be safe, I stashed the pan in the panggang for safekeeping. Let's see those clever felines figure out how to get their greedy little tongues on it now. .
But more important than damage control, what this interlude reminded me is that my pets, just like small children, traffic jams, and porch squirrels, are wildly unpredictable and any time I think I've got them under control is when they are ready to humble once again.
Because I never know what my pets will be doing behind my back.
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