August 2nd, 2008

pretty cats make graves

last friday night V. and i drove to montreal to see catherine ringer's tribute to the other half of les rita mitsouko, fred chichin, who died of cancer this past winter. we drove back early evening on this past monday. this was the longest amount of time i had left this new group of House Cats of the Apocalypse( V.2). persia et al i could pretty much leave for 2 days- a weekend- and they'd be fine. oh, they'd snub me when i first walked through the door on return but the introduction of bowls of moist food usually melted the ice. particularly because 2 of the girls are still somewhat feral and lucy was still a little scared of me i wondered if my absence would really annoy or upset them at all.

wave of mutilation comes pretty close to what i came home to.

not since we had the springer spaniel who used to dance on top of the dining room table, knocking everything off and mounding the tablecloth into a wad, have pets left home alone launched into such over the top displays of pique. and it's now one full week later and nixe and farah, the ferals who claim to not like humans, still will barely look at me. they are cutting their eyes at me. bitch, please.

i got home after midnight tired, sick of being in the car so long and having to go to work the next morning. first thing i see when i open the door is a hallway filled with cat litter. there had been a sealed box of litter- the kind with the plastic bag inside and two holes cut in the sides to carry it by. they had( and i think it was The Farah because i've caught her red pawed doing unspeakable things to bags of unopened litter) managed to extract all the litter from one handle hole and placed cheerful mounds all throughout the hall. i suppose i am lucky they didn't also use it for its intended purpose but that's where the best part of their colorful, innovative commentary on my weekend absence comes in.

they love their Ikea pussy tent:

so i am not entirely sure why they thought they were punishing me when they dragged it into the center of the kitchen, collapsed it, scratched at it and then peed on it. they use their litter boxes faithfully so this really surprised me. they completed their installation by surrounding it with all the paper towel rolls they could find unrolled and shredded like confetti. i'm thinking of sending it to MOMA as "PissTent#7". i knew i should have set up a kitty cam so the artist can be credited. perhaps it was a group effort. i detect, however, angry calico colored bitches in full tortitude rampage." but is it art? ", you say :

and if all that wasn't enough they took every item of my clothing they could get their filthy little paws on and tossed it all on the floor where they appeared to roll all over it, coating it in enough fur to make several sweaters. they ripped coats off the hooks in the hall, opened bags of dirty and clean laundry and pulled everything out. all in all it's safe to say they had a fucking fit. it was only 2 days and i left big bowls of food and water everywhere and completely pampered and lavished attention on them before i left. none of this takes into consideration that i hadn't even made it through the kitchen to the litter boxes through the swathe of kitty discontent. although used properly, let's just say 7 cats after 2 days - a back hoe and dump truck wouldn't be entirely out of the question. so i missed Jenn's visit (although to be honest i got in way too late anyway) and had about 2 hours of damage control to get through before i could sleep. and they ignored me, out right snubbed me the entire time which they spent trying to figure out how to open and destroy, no doubt, my luggage and its contents.

yes, they're my little angels...