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So, If I’m Found DEAD At The Bottom Of The Stairs…

Gracie, aka the ‘feline of interest’
(photo courtesy of J. Powell)

…you have a viable suspect.  A ‘feline-of-interest‘.

I written previously regarding my roommate’s our pets.  I adopted them when I moved in.  Fortunately, we all get along, in spite of some annoying habits.  I am speaking of the quadrupeds.

The newest member of the menagerie is a black longhaired creature named Gracie.   This is ironic, as I used to own a cat, a shorthaired calico with the same name.  Rather, she owned me.

The popular meme is we are dog’s masters; cats have staff.  With Gracie, it’s no different.

She has one of those automatic dry cat food feeders, an inverted bin which connects to a bowl.  Gravity operation.  Of course, she’s too lazy stupid smart to use her paw to move the food into the bowl herself.  She complains until one of us does it for her.  Smart.

She’s generally not allowed into the bedrooms, so she waits outside for us to emerge.  Sometimes whining if we get up later than she would like.

I’m usually up first, and she greets me on the upper landing, then accompanies my journey down the stairs, all the while crossing in front of my feet in an effort to get attention, and trip me!  You must remember I’m disabled, and traversing the stairs usually requires both hands, and concentration.  She doesn’t care. 

If I make it down the stairs relatively unharmed, she continues trying to trip me as I walk around downstairs.  All the while meowing and purring to lull me into the belief she likes me.

The catch is after I’ve survived these attempts, and my roommate arises, she only has a mild interest in trying to kill me.  I wonder what THAT’S about?

So, If I’m Found DEAD At The Bottom Of The Stairs…

About guffaw1952

I'm a child of the 50's. libertarian, now medically-retired. I've been a certified firearms trainer, a private investigator, and worked for a major credit card company for almost 22 years. I am a proud NRA Life Member. I am a limited-government, free-market capitalist, who believes in the U.S. Constitution and the Rule of Law.


10 thoughts on “So, If I’m Found DEAD At The Bottom Of The Stairs…

  1. Hee. I have a herd of cats that seem to think flying down the stairs between my feet as I’m trying to go down them will make food appear faster.

    Posted by ProudHillbilly | September 28, 2012, 7:45 am
  2. I’ve never known a cat that didn’t try the criss-cross-in-front-of-your-feet maneuver – and the more so in the most precarious conditions or tight quarters. Maybe they think we’re just big cats, and therefore have the same reflexes and agility … or because they wish to feed from our prone carcasses.

    The jury’s still out.

    Posted by Rev. Paul | September 28, 2012, 8:30 am
  3. …..and cat didn’t care.

    Posted by WellSeasonedFool | September 28, 2012, 9:18 am
  4. Entries in a dog’s journal:

    8:00 am – OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!

    9:30 am – OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!

    9:40 am – OH BOY! A WALK! MY FAVORITE!

    10:30 am – OH BOY! A CAR RIDE! MY FAVORITE!

    11:30 am – OH BOY! DOG FOOD! MY FAVORITE!

    12:00 noon – OH BOY! THE KIDS! MY FAVORITE!


    1:30 PM – ooooooo. bath. bummer.




    Entries in a cat’s journal:

    DAY 752 – My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from ruining the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.

    DAY 761 – Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair…must try this on their bed.

    DAY 765 – Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was…Hmmm. Not working according to plan.

    DAY 768 – I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time, however, it included a burning foamy chemical called “shampoo.” What sick minds could invent such a liquid? My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth.

    DAY 771 – There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise. More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of “allergies.” Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

    DAY 774 – I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant, and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait; it is only a matter of time……

    Posted by SaW | September 28, 2012, 1:27 pm
  5. With cats there are no accidents.

    Posted by Wilson | September 29, 2012, 12:14 am

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"Round up the usual suspects."

In Loving Memory…

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