Wet newspaper

Oh, those wacky cats.

It must have been between 5 and 5:30 this morning when the girls decided to play.

Flop will egg on Cleo (sometimes with a purpose, other times completely unintentionally), and Cleo will comply about sixty to seventy percent of the time. Usually, the play will be brief - for all of the energy expended to start something - but if you are lucky enough to be witness to it, the play is entertaining.

And I must admit, there are times when we humans of the domicile see the inkling of silliness and cat mayhem beginning, and we will endeavor to raise the stakes quickly before one of them loses interest. It makes it enjoyable to for us...is that so wrong?

At any rate, typically, Flop will forget she wanted to play and become bored - or focused on some other activity - but Cleo will still be game. What's a dog-cat with an extremely sticky attention span supposed to do?

This morning was one of those events, where somehow, in the dark, play was initiated but then became a nuisance. Undeterred, Cleo pursued Flop until Flop was overcome by one of her famous hissy fits. She protests Cleo's attempts at play by hissing and slapping (with large, ineffectual cotton ball feet), which Cleo ignores and pushes past, nipping and taunting until Flop dissolves into a hunchbacked trundle run to any piece of furniture she can get under (which, amazingly enough is almost every piece of upholstered furniture we own). From that protected vantage point, Flop continues her protesting and defensive slap tactics with very little success.

Cleo, on the other hand, lays on the floor inches away, rolling and stretching like a kitten, prutting and purring and basically looking as innocent and cute as can be, while her sister is then overcome by gag reflex and starts to cough up a hairball, induced by the hissing of the play time.

This morning was one of those hissy fit catastrophes, and while I soothed Flop into a calmer state (preventing the hairball mess), I was jolted into a new day. I thought I could go back to bed and have the warmth of flannel sheets and toasty blankets, and the quiet darkness of the predawn hours, lull me back to sleep.

Nope. No such luck. I lay there for about an hour or so when I finally realized I was waisting awake time...so up and at 'em.

Rats!

It's raining...and very quietly, I must add. Usually I can hear the rain, or at least smell it, but not this morning. I turned on the TV to find out what time I had managed to lolly-gag to, and was told by the cheery weather dude that it was raining at 6:34, but that we might see sunshine before the sun sets today. Humph!

While I was soothing Flop earlier, I saw the flashing strobe of the paper delivery car bounce around the living room walls upstairs. So my paper was at the end of the driveway, hopefully not drenched or lying in a puddle (my delivery person has a knack for soaking a paper), but definitely in jeopardy of succumbing to the elements.

I fed the girls, then donned shoes and a sweater and sloshed out to the street.

Yup, squishy paper.

Double rats!

6:55 A.M. - Mr. Robin has decided it is time to wake the rest of the bird neighborhood. I like the sound of early birds just before and during twilight.

7:04 A.M. - A lighter sky has penetrated the cloud coverage, and you can detect daylight is on its way.

7:26 A.M. - Sure, the newspaper is still too wet to read, but I am towelled off and inside, and my day has promise. I am turning my page.

See you in the funny papers!