Yes, you read that right.
Five. Cats.
Three of the cats are mine; Shiloh, age three, Mikey, age two, and Cookie, age one. Two of the cats are cats that I foster for a local humane society, but who haven't been adopted yet; Stevie, age four and Prin, age one.
Now, each of them has a different personality and their own little quirks, as loving pet owners will acknowledge about all pets. Shiloh and Snookie are both cats that love to play fetch. Shiloh is very specific about what she will fetch; brightly colored balls with bells in the middle, or a feather toy that she can toss around.
Cookie, however, is not specific at all.
Cookie will bring me any number of things to throw. Balls, toy mice, feather toys, bottle caps, hair ties...she even brought me a sock one time. All of these items she expects me to toss across the room so that she can retrieve it and bring it back to me, much like a dog.
This evening, I was sitting in our bed with my Husband, watching a particuarly riveting episode of Dexter. Cookie brought me a toy in her mouth and dropped it in my lap, sitting back patiently, waiting for me to toss it so that she could fetch it and bring it back.
Not paying attention, keeping my eyes fixed on the TV to see what life would bring to dear ol' Dexter, I grabbed the toy and held it in my hand.
And then the toy moved.
Crawled, really.
The toy...crawled.
Confused, I looked down into my open palm in horror.
Cookie brought me a live beetle.
Now, it's at this moment that I feel I should tell you that I am terrified of bugs. Oh, not the little stand-on-a-chair-and-shriek-until-someone-kills-it terrified. I am the screaming-at-the-top-of-my-lungs-throwing-it-while-simulatiously-trying-to-throw-myself-the-other-direction, all-the-blood-is-gone-from-my-face, shaking-and-crying-and-acting-like-a-three-year-old kind of terrified. So I did what comes naturally.
I threw it and screamed bloody murder while trying to lodge my fat body behind my Husband's skinny frame, like I might be able to hide from it behind him.
My Husband, being the brave shining knight in armor, quickly scooped it up and did something with it. I didn't ask.
I calmed down and thought to myself, "Now, how did she get a beetle? It couldn't have gotten in our apartment..." and then it dawned on me.
The balcony door must be open.
Sure enough, we ran out into the living room to discover the cats were having a little party out on the balcony called "Freedom." Seems they somehow managed to open the door on their own and decided, "Hey, let's live a little while we're young!" Cookie thought. "Ooo, a moving-thingie! I bet Mommy would love to throw this for me, and it would be fun to catch!"
*shudders*
After coercing them back inside with a little sweet talk and a lot of treats, we slammed the door shut on their freedom, and Cookie will have to go back to her secret hair tie and bottle cap collection.
As for me...I'll be laying awake in bed tonight, eyes open wide, searching the bedroom walls for more beetles that might somehow attack me, or crawl on me, or...or...
I'll be back.
I have to go buy Raid.
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