A New Game.

Like everyone else in the world, I have an alligator head sitting on a shelf in my house. A tiny plastic cat who looks like my first all-mine kitty Bella Luna sits inside the alligator’s mouth.

I don’t know why.

Both items were gifts from the same person and I think it became a question of what exactly I should do with a tiny plastic cat. My nephew HATES the feng shui of the combination. His first move at my house is to relocate the cat from inside the alligator’s mouth.

Everyone gets stuff like this as a present, right?

Everyone gets stuff like this as a present, right?

The cats have been only mildly interested in the gator/kitty set up. There is a scratching post beside the shelf and if they’re feeling wild, they can climb to the top of the post and smack the kitty off the shelf and out of the gator’s mouth. This usually only happens if I’m gone for a couple of days and they only see the cat sitter. Color them bored and creative.

However, yesterday I came home to this.

Kitty on Kitchen Rug

Kitty on Kitchen Rug

 

Plastic Bella was in the kitchen a whole room away from her origins and the gator head was on the floor by the shelf. Clearly someone had an exciting day while I was at work. Olivia is my most likely suspect. Throwing a jingle mouse will even distract her from food right now which is a pretty powerful cat statement to make. Her obsession with chasing and carrying things has most likely extended to Plastic Bella. Thankfully, not the gator head. I put everything to rights and didn’t consider it much more until this morning.

This morning I woke up to the return of Plastic Bella to the kitchen. I guess I stumbled past the gator head on the floor on my way there.

Plastic Bella must have been hungry.

Plastic Bella must have been hungry.

The frequency of this now dictates that I needed to relocate things before SOMEONE hurts herself or breaks my alligator head which has been surprisingly tough so far. I texted Grammie about the new game and she, of course, added to my paranoia.

Thanks, Grammie.

Thanks, Grammie.

No teeth marks, no gnawing on the enticing plastic tail or legs, but it’s always a possibility. So I relocated kitty and gator to the most logical place: the “voodoo” area. The “voodoo” area is really just a conglomeration of weird and a cool owl shelf, but I thought it might give Grammie pause. Wrong.

Really? "Better place" Thats all shes got?

Really? “Better place” That’s all shes got?

It’s official. I have desensitized my mom to all things weird and unusual. Must try harder.

In other news, Miles really wanted to write this post; he is inspired by me sitting at the computer trying to work.

His typing is worse than mine.

His typing is worse than mine.

 

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6 thoughts on “A New Game.

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