lifeinflux

Spock would be proud

// December 7th, 2009 // Life

I knew I was in trouble this morning the moment I opened my eyes.   Mimir, otherwise known as The Cat™, was sitting by my head frantically pushing at my face.  There are wonderful ways to be nudged from sleep.  There are great ways to be nudged from sleep.  Shoot, there are even “okay, I wanted to sleep but you woke me up” ways to be nudged from sleep.   Having a cat push her paw into your cheekbone is not any of them.    It is, however, effective.  Since I went to bed around 5:30 AM after pulling an all-nighter to ensure morning delivery to a client, getting nudged in the face at 10 AM was not the way I wanted to wake up.

The moment I sat up I knew something was up.   The first clue was that Mimir did not hang around to be petted.  Usually I get nudges to the face because she needs to be petted, and scratched and loved on right now and no, you miserable shit, you may NOT wait until daylight to fulfill her need.    The second clue was that I could hear the smacking of rubbery lips followed by a nice, big, satisfied BUUURRRP.   Now, unless someone broke into my house and decided to chow down on frozen sausages or eight blocks of cheese – don’t ask – there is only one creature who could possibly be snacking out with the intensity and delicacy of a 300 pound man with a box of Ho-Ho’s.

As I was sitting in bed, trying to wake up and determine 1) if I really had to get up and 2) if and when I did get up, what exactly would I do, The Bear™ came around the corner with a shoebox in his mouth.   The moment he saw me, he froze.  If Bears could talk, the words “Oh Fuuuuuuuuuu-dddgeeee” would have escaped around the bright pink Airwalks box he was carting around (Bears don’t curse you see).    Bear looked to the left, looked to the right and seeing no escape decided to ease backwards, still carrying the box, whereupon he hightailed it to his crate, evidence still in hand, err mouth.    I sighed and threw my tired body out of bed, hit the bathroom and went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, leaving Bear to sit there and whine and snivel.   I figured he needed a moment or two of sweating it out, you see.

Chuckling at myself, I entered the kitchen only to find that rotting lettuce and parsley had taken over the kitchen floor.    Oh and that a lemon had exploded.  No… make that two lemons exploded.  Now, my BFF, Angela has not cooked in this particular kitchen… ever.   So I knew it was not that.  On top of a clump of regugitated paper towels, I got the proof I needed.   Two black shoe lases and a pair of Drue’s holiday toe socks were perched there and I figured there was only one sentient being in the house that would not only rip into the trash bag someone (JASON) had left out and unbound, but who would also eat his way through Drue’s shoebox and then carry the unconsumed shoe lases and a pair of toe socks into the scene of the crime and deposit them.

Once I checked the toe socks to make sure they were not harmed (slimy and gross but not harmed), I threw the pile of sheets (Drue’s as well) that the dog had rested upon while enjoying his plunder into the laundry after spending 15 minutes stain sticking the green lettuce and parsley stains out of the white and red striped sheets.  Let’s hope for Bear’s sake the stains come out because Drue is already going to be on the warpath over her toe socks.   Once the sheets were in the laundry and the garbage off the kitchen floor and into a new garbage bag, I walked to the back room in order to have a word with Mr. Kodiak “You may not make it another day” Butthead Bear Gloege.    The mangled shoebox was there but… no Kodi.

I’ll admit it, I jumped a foot.  Then good sense prevailed and I realized he was hiding somewhere.   I walked into Drue’s room.  No Kodi.  I checked my room including my closet and under the bed.  No Kodi.  I walked into the bathroom and flung open the shower curtain, expecting to find him in groveling in the bathtub.  Nope, no Kodi.  After checking the front hall, living room, dining room and kitchen, I still could not find that damn dog.   I rushed into my bedroom searching frantically for the cell phone to call Jason, images of Kodi hiding somewhere dying from a twisted gut – come on, you remember that awful scene in “Marley and Me” – flashing through my mind.   And then I felt it…  eyes on my person.    I looked up expecting the cat.  Mimir was not there.   I poked my head out of the hall.   No cat.  No dog.   Then I noticed Mimir sitting in front of the crate, staring into the depths.    Cautiously, I proceeded into the back room, wondering what in the world I would find.   Kodi’s crate was locked; I verified that myself before leaving him to snivel in front of it, 20 minutes prior!

And yet, there was Kodi… IN HIS CRATE.  And the crate was locked.   Now Kodi has pulled this kind of thing before, having somehow moved his Bear-self from the living room to the front door of my mom’s house by navigating through a series of locked gates.    So I’m going to have to let Drue know that any major repercussions to The Bear™ is not something we’re prepared to do at present…

At least, not until he shares his methods on teleporting.   After that, the dog is toast.