So it’s late at night, probably ten or eleven, and I hear a crash from downstairs. Almost in unison, Mother Duck and I emerge from our rooms at the commotion. She tells me the cats came running into her room, and so, while she goes downstairs to investigate, I go to check on the kitties. Carmelita is nowhere to be found, but Rosalina (pictured above) is peeking out from underneath Mother Duck’s bed, looking quite shaken. On closer inspection, I discover that she has the handle from a paper bag hanging from her neck like a bizarre piece of jewelry (not unlike something Camelita did a while back…).
Just as I’m trying to lure the anxious Rosie close enough to remove the offending item, Mother Duck is downstairs, discovering the paper bag that had previously been sitting on our kitchen counter to now be lying amongst the blinds of the sliding glass door, a hole ripped in its bottom. Rosie continues to peer out into the hallway from underneath the bed, fur puffed up, as Carmelita slinks timidly into the room, the fur on her back standing up in a pointed ridge. At this time, Mother Duck is finally returning upstairs with the verdict as Rosie wanders close enough for me to extricate her from the bag handle.
What began as a startling night turned into a rather amusing tale of what happens when cats wander places they really shouldn’t be. Fortunately, everyone is okay, and while Rosie probably learned nothing from her ordeal, we have at least learned one very important thing. In this household….the handles must always be cut off of paper bags. Because our cats are hopeless!