monkeyshines . . .

we are full of rituals here in the cave. Even the cats have rituals. Everyone gets a half a can of cat food bright and early each morning . . . to the tune of much mewing, mirrups, leg rubbings and other such goings on. But from there they differ. All Snoop wants to do is eat in peace. He is a slow eater. He will finish 2/3 of his plate, wander off to see the world and come back and eat the rest at his leisure. Unfortunately, the other beasties, Bear and Ninja, like his wet food better then theirs. Dry food is not the issue. So as soon as Snoop's breakfast plate hits the floor, three vultures attack. Two are immediately air lifted to the privacy of the bedroom to their own plate. Soon Snoop is done with his first course and meanders off asking to be let out on the pool deck for his daily patrol. The babies therefore consider leftovers as fair game.

My first attempt to protect Snoop's vittles was to stick them on top of the cubicles. They were safe there for all of two days until Ninja discovered she could climb onto the desk chair, balance on its back and leap to the top of the cubicles and chow down. Next, I slid Snoop's plate into one of the lower vertical shelves. It was safe until Ninja conned Bear, who is much bigger, into standing like a meerkat and fishing for the plate until it could be brought to the edge and dumped. The only other option was to use a higher shelf and this worked successfully for several weeks . . . until this morning.

In broad daylight right before my eyes, they planned the theft . . . could I not see from across the room??? To regress a moment, both kittens have learned that if they hop onto either desk chair with any velocity, it will scooch under their weight. Keeping this in mind, Ninja managed to move the chair, stationed away from the shelving unit, closer and closer, but being vertically challenged, she needed Bear to actually reach in and snag the object of their affection. So with the chair moved into position and Bear's longer arms, I watched the paper plate being scooched to the edge until it slipped out of place and flipped onto the floor dislodging it's contents into the waiting mouths of two miniature terrorists. Snoop was not at all happy. Nor, must I admit, was I. Now I need a new and more inventive hiding place or Snoop needs to learn to eat while the eating is good. God bless the ingenuity of kittens (and Robbie Mooney).