Eight lives left

So, I get up this morning, and can’t find Maxx. Usually he’s crouched right at the bedroom door, sometimes with Minnie on his back. They’re working together to figure out how to turn the knob. This is ALWAYS where the both are in the morning, often making little mewing and trilling sounds under the crack of the door, and sliding their little paws underneath as if attempting to hook me and drag me out.

MinnieYawnSmall3

Maxx! MAXX! MAAAAAAX!!!
Where are you?

Today… Minnie’s there, trilling, hooking, just like usual. No Maxx.

I look for him. Nothing.

Call him. Nothing.

I start to get a little worried. Maxx is a raucous, romping clown and gets into everything. Did he get into more than he could handle while I was asleep? Shit. Did he stick a claw or his nose into an electrical outlet and electrocute himself? Strangle himself? Eat something poisonous? WTF? Where the hell is he?

I wander around and call him some more, followed by Minnie, who is no help at all, and hear a faint crackling emanating from inside the recliner. I turn it over… there he is, way up in the reclining mechanism, WITH A BAG OVER HIS HEAD.

I drag him out and pull if off, and it’s all steamy and his fur is damp, and he looks drunk. And then he looks up at me with his eyes all spinny, like, “Oh, hey, it’s you. Nice to see you. Pet me a little, and give me something to eat.”

Have I mentioned Maxx is a male?

Anyway.

MaxxAppleBag2

This isn’t the first time Maxx has been fascinated with plastic bags. Here he is, pretending to be an iKitty.

He sort of wobbles over to the kitchen like nothing’s up, and I’m standing there holding the bag… it’s small and very thick, and not anything I recognize. Where the hell he found this, I have no idea. Was it behind a couch somewhere and he stuck his head inside and panicked, and climbed inside the chair to hide from the bag over his head? (This strategy, of course, only makes sense to cats.)

Maybe it was up inside the recliner? Pushed down inside from when the grandkids were here? Maybe stuffed there by a factory worker who got busted for snacking while putting the chair together? Who knows??? But of course, wherever it came from, Maxx just HAD to stick his head inside. Because that’s just the kind of cat he is.

So, I give them their morning treat, and pretty soon they’re off and romping together, and I’m relieved that Maxx doesn’t seem to have suffered any brain damage from his near suffocation. And I also shudder a bit, because I’m glad he found that bag when I was at home, and not on a night when I was away. He’s a cute little clown. I’d like to keep him around awhile longer.

Maxx. Down to eight lives.

MaxxYawn

Maxx: Ha ha, Mom! I sure scared you, didn’t I!
Minnie: Asshole.

MaxxChair2

Maxx is such a cutie beauty.
I’m glad he still has eight lives left.

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2 thoughts on “Eight lives left

  1. OMG! I’m soooo glad he’s ok! Maybe you need to kitty proof your house and turn all the furniture upside down and check for bags and such. :O since he likes to get into Mischief.

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