We were upstairs, as usual. Our upstairs sees a lot more of us than downstairs. Most of the kitties stay in the same general vicinity as where we’re working when all of a sudden from downstairs, we hear a loud growl, a thud, some scrambling and a whole lot of nails trying to gain traction on the floor. We look at each other.
“Who’s downstairs?” we call out and start a head count of cats on nearby chairs, the desk and rug. “Quint, Olivia, Miss Newton, Pia and with Ruby and Maxx in our bedroom, that leaves just…”
Why, of course. Tessa. Perhaps the large mousie (Miss Newton’s rat from IKEA) innocently laying behind her gave her a bit of lip?