Rumple, Rumple, Rumple.
Clink, Rumple, Rumple.
BANG! Rumple, Clink, CRASH!!
“Hey! Hamlet what h@ll are you playing with now?”
Click, SWOOOOOOOSH, Rumple, Rumple.
Two lightning bolts streaked past me from the living room, headed into the bedroom.
Only something wasn’t quite right with one of them, it sounded like a paper bag. Peeking under the bed I see the source of the odd lighting flash. My youngest cat Hamlet has gotten stuck in the handle of a paper bag.
Apparently while playing with a paper bag he stuck his head through one of the handles, it moved its way down past his neck and somehow he got both forepaws through it as well. The bag handle is neatly around his tummy.
This did not sit well with Hamlet at all, and the crashing around that woke me up at 3:30 am this morning was him trying to run away from the bag. Needless to say it kept up with him pretty well.
So, now I have two freaked out kitties under the bed.
“Come on dude, I can’t help you if you hide under there. Don’t make me flush you out.”
I flush Hamlet out with a t-shirt.
The cat-bag-lightning bolt streaks back into the living room and behind the love seat.
CRASH!!!!! The bag doesn’t quite fit and brings down the CD collection on top of the fugitive kitty.
ZOOOOM!!!, the paniced cat makes a run for behind the Entertainment Center and somehow manages to get himself and the bag through the two inch gap between the T.V. and the wall.
Fortunately the Entertainment Center is on wheels. I head to the end without the cat and slowly roll it forward. Hamlet freaks out again, and by now he must feel that he is in a life or death struggle.
I know this by the cat feces that is all over the floor under the Entertainment Center.
I step in and nab Hamlet, who promptly sinks his claws into my foot.
“OWWW!! Geeze! Come here!”
Holding the youngster at arms length I get him into the kitchen, grab some scissors and set Hamlet down on the counter. Holding him in place I snip the handle of the bag and he is free once again.
He looks at me like I am some great monster and prepares to bolt, I get two hands on him and keep him on the counter immobile until his breathing slows and I confirm he is in fact uninjured after the attack of the killer bag.
I scoop the kid up and carry him back to the bedroom and set him down. All the run is out of him now and just flops on the covers looking shell shocked; time to go clean up the entertainment center.
When I get back Hamlet hasn’t moved, and as far as I know his mother is still under the bed.
Poor little guy.
I carry him back out to the living room and keep him on my lap for while. When his eyes return back to something resembling their normal size I take him back into the bedroom and set him on the ground.
Hamlet quietly heads under the bed, heading straight for mom.
Phew, not a normal 4 am by any means.
I click the light off, and get back under the covers.
Russle, Russle. Click, tap, tap, tap.
…logs into World of Warcraft….