The harrowing adventures of bathroom kitten


I believe I’ve mentioned my horde of animals. The newest cat addition, which I rescued with the vague intention of finding her a home, was far too adorable to let go. That, and the city seems to be overflowing with cats and dogs needing homes, so finding her a good one turned into an unlikely prospect.

Meet Midnight:

A close relation to basement cat

She’s utterly cute, but of all my cats, I swear, she’s the most active and pounces on EVERYTHING. She’s nearly all black, with tiny random white hairs here and there, leading me to believe she’s a close relation to basement cat. Midnight and my oldest cat Diamond (a whopping 2yrs old) took one look at each other proclaimed, “ENEMY!” Well, correction, Diamond hated her on sight. Midnight offered her cutest face until the hissing started. All the other cats fell victim to her cuteness, but not Diamond. I suspect it’s jealousy. Diamond has aspirations to become the next basement cat. The only problem with her plan is that it’s a wee bit obvious she is the product of a tryst between basement cat and ceiling cat.

Evil? Good? I'm so conflicted.

So, she began her diabolical plan to eliminate the competition, or at lest scare it into hiding. Her master plan centered around “attacking” the kitten. I’ve noticed that while claws are involved, no blood has been drawn and usually there’s more noise than shed fur. Tiny little Midnight freaked out at first, but she fought back and enlisted the aid of Jack (another of the cat horde) and one of the dogs, to intercept Diamond’s attacks.

Playing it safe, Midnight took to staying in my room, and at night, the bathroom. If she didn’t pounce on everything that moved, including my face, I’d let her sleep on the bed. However there’s nothing more disconcerting than waking from a sound sleep to claws in your forehead because your hair moved.

From day one she showed no fear in regards to the louder, larger, furry species she shared the house with. She regularly plays with all three dogs. In fact, I’m wondering if perhaps she’s having an identity crisis. All of my other cats are quite fastidious about their appearance, what they eat, etc. Midnight will attack any and all food (well, to be fair, Jack has a Garfield-like obsession with food), and she’s taken to drinking from the toilet. If I forgot to refill her water bowl I could see how desperation might drive her to the unspeakable water bowl of stink. However, she had water and we’ve discovered it’s the flushing that fascinates her.

Flush!

A streak of black fur zooms by and before you know it she’s leaped onto the toilet. Often she tries to follow the swirling water.

Given her small size, although she is growing so it won’t be a problem for too much longer, this doesn’t always go well. One time she half fell in and when she climbed out, her head was soaked in toilet water.

Her fascination with all things bathroom has earned her the moniker: Bathroom kitten.

She bravely saves us from the terrors of toilet paper. No hairband will ever live to threaten us. All toiletries will one day lay down in fear before her might!

I wonder, between trying to follow the water into the sewer and digging her way to China in her litter box, maybe she’s trying to find a route to the Basement dimension so she can assume her rightful place. I’d bribe Jack with food to tell me her plans, but I don’t speak cat.

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2 responses to “The harrowing adventures of bathroom kitten

  1. Pingback: They say you can’t please them all « southerndreamer

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