We’ve been seeing ants around the house. BIG ants, not quite as big as the ones in Them!, but getting there. So we brought in the exterminator, who sprayed the house inside and out. In order for him to do this, we had to get the cats out of the house. So, while I’m at work at MilliCal is at school, Pepper Mill boxes up the smallest cat, Lotta, in a cat box, and takes our two part-Maine Coon cats out for a walk (contrary to what you’ve heard, you can herd cats. we do it all the time.)
A bit of background. These are BIG cats, easily outweighing some small yappy dogs I’ve seen. Midnight is the older. Think of her as the Grandma in the movie Hoodwinked – apparently sweet on the outside, but tough and packing switchblades. And she can have a mean temper. Clarence has a sweet dispopsitioon, and only one eye. He’s younger, and dumber. Think of him as a punch-drunk jock who ought to be living in a frat house. He frequently roughhouses with Lotta, who loves it. Midnight doesn’t. Despite living together for six years, Midnight and Clarence hate each other. They both think they’re the alpha cat.
Walking around outside, they’re fine, as long as they’re not close together. When Clarence comes too close, Midnight hisses.
In the middle of the spraying for ants, it starts to rain. Hard. Pepper Mill cannot take the cats into the house, so she throws (metaphorically) Lotta’s cat carrier into the van, then rounds up Midnight and Clarence and puts them in the van, too.
They’ve never been in the van before without being in the cat carriers on their way to the vet for their annual checkup), and they decide they don’t like it. They want out now. Midnight, who is fiendishly clever, and knows that you open doors with door handles, locates the door handle and begins trying to push it open. I am flabbergasted at this – she’s rarely seen a car door handle used, but she’s figured out how to work it. Only, since her strength and leverage aren’t up to it, she can’t open the door.
Clarence, watching her, figures that she must know what she’s doing, so he starts pushing on another door handle. He doesn’t succeed, either. Fortunately, because the last thing we need are two wet angry cats.
Finally, they give up and decide to sit in the front seat. Only they can’t both sit in the front seat – there’s not enough room. But the front seat is the best seat, because it’s next to Mom. And they’re both the alpha cat. They end up both sitting in the front seat, side by side, but facing opposite directions – one facing the window, the other facing Mom. They’re topuching slightly, but they affect not to notice this. That’s the way they stayed until the rain ended.
Lotta slept through it all.