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      Sunday, November 09, 2014


catstuff
06:55 AM - 11/09/2014

The topic: So, I’m washing the dishes last night

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We'd had baked chicken breasts. Placed on a bed of olive oil, covered in tomato sauce and diced tomatoes, add a little lemon juice and basil cover and bake at 400°. I usually cook them for an hour, I like the meat tender. Served over whole wheat spaghetti.  And a side of mixed veggies and garlic bread. It was pretty tasty.

The summer that seems like it's never going to end, didn't end yesterday, it was in the 90s. Add the fact that the kitchen is on the west side of the house, the side the sun sets, the heat of the oven and I was miserable. Sitting at the table, I'd just go into a statue state (I'd use the word "freeze", but it's just not applicable at this point). Brian asked me what was wrong. "I don't even have to move and the sweat pours off of me, that kitchen is so hot; why do the people who build houses not take into consideration the area they're building them? Why put the kitchen in the hottest part of the house?" 

I've felt punky all day, lightheaded. I think it was because I didn't really eat that much all day and I don't know if you can have physical withdrawal symptoms from chocolate, if you can, mine was in raging. Brian took the Halloween candy to the vet's on Friday, I hadn't had any since. I grabbed a few fun sized bars before he left and I made short work of those Friday morning. Add to this our allergies are in full swing. Both of us have nose problems (Brian's gets very runny, mine starts packing up inside my sinuses) and coughs. Even the cats have weepy eyes.

I digress. I'm in my hot kitchen over the sink full of dirty pots and am washing them in hot water, I'm getting close to almost done, just a couple of pot lids left when I hear growling from the other room. I shout out "you'd better stop it!"

It didn't stop. It escalated. Usually at this point Brian would pick up the case since I was busy, but to help my funky mood he had left, going down to the local grocer in search of ice cream. I dried my hands and went into the other room to find the source of the growling and hissing. 

I see Charlie and a red kitty in the family room window. Really going at it. I hope it's not Opie or Richie, they have no teeth. I start yelling. "Charlie! Charlie! Stop! Stop it! Charlie!" The fight goes from the family room window to the dining room window, where there's a large crock of water. My eyes are looking for the squirt bottle, it's over by the garage side of the family room. I rush and grab it, squirt it a couple of times in my hand to make sure it's working. I spread open the blinds and the red cat runs from the window to behind the sofa. They fight behind that. They run into the living room and fight in there. I'm in fast chase, but can't keep up with them, the sun is down, the rooms are dark. The fight continues into the bedroom and under the bed. I bang on the footboard and they run from under the bed back into the living room. I follow and the red cat runs from the entertainment center back into the family room and under the sofa. Charlie finally starts backing off. I found him in one of the cat tunnels in the living room and tried to get him to go outside. (I'd opened the screen door when this first started, sometimes he'll go outside and blow of steam out there.) I pushed at him with the flashlight to get him to go out, but he ran into the office and up onto the bookshelf. He looked like he was coming out of his crazy state. 

Amazingly, most of the other cats didn't even move during this. The running around, me screaming, they didn't even look up in interest. 

The cat he was chasing was Katie and she was still under the sofa. I wanted to make sure she wasn't hurt, not just from the fight itself, but from the falls she may have taken getting away from him. I gave her some treats, but she stayed under there. 

My side of the bed was wet, but that was from all the water they'd knocked over in the dining room window. I cleaned up the fur and water from the dining room window (it's a bay window). 

I sat on the sofa to get back to the previous state of mind and body where I'd just been hot from doing dishes. If I thought I was hot before, it was way worse now. I felt like I'd just done a sprint up the hill. I heard the lock in the door and Brian was home. I followed him into the kitchen where he put the ice cream in the freezer and I finished the dishes.

When I dished up the cats' dinner, they were both there, walking okay, looking okay, no obvious injuries, so that's good.

Katie spent the rest of the evening stretched out on the back of Brian's sofa. 

 


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lisaviolet is sixty something, married with no kids, takes care of lots of cats, likes taking photographs, loves Southern California weather and spends altogether too much time avoiding her responsibilities.

In her spare time, she makes pretty things to sell in her store.

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