I'm tempted to write more about my brother, like how when he was about 7 and he came wandering down the hall singing "Did You Happen To See The Most Beautiful Girl In The World?" or when he & his friend shot fireballs out the backdoor using hairspray & lighters while Mom & Dad were at work...but I won't. I've decided to write about my cats today.

Cats are smart. Regardless of how braindead my husband seems to think our cats are, I've seen evidence that proves otherwise. When Jeff & I first got married, we had two cats, Midnight & Chazz. Midnight hates Chazz...She is very dignified and queenly (when she's not drooling) and Chazz always wants to play. He would ambush her when she least expected it, causing her to lose some of her dignity as she was rolled uncerimoniously across the floor.

I kept the cat food in the cabinet underneath the sink. When the door shut, it bounced against the frame with a sound like "Doonk doonk doonk doonk." Whenever the cats heard that sound, they thought they were getting fed and would rush to the kitchen. They were trained well.

One afternoon, Midnight was grooming in the living room when Chazz jumped her. The fight was vicious and Chazz came out ahead. Midnight sulked off, leaving the victor to gloat in front of us. He came right to me for some petting. As I was sitting there on the couch with Chazz, I suddenly heard "Doonk doonk doonk doonk. Doonk doonk doonk doonk." It was the cabinet door in the kitchen. Chazz perked right up, thinking he was being fed. He jumped up and ran towards the sound. I followed, wanting to know what Midnight was doing. As we both rounded the corner, there was Midnight, crouched with her butt wiggling. The second she saw Chazz, she leapt on him and kicked his ass!

Chazz has since tempered down his attacks on her. It's quite obvious he was set up in the most brilliant tactical manuever I've ever seen pulled off by a cat!

Sadly, he's not as smart as his sister. He gets trapped in cupboards, closets and hampers...one night he stuck his head into a small blue plastic bag and couldn't get it off. At first he walked around backwards, thinking he could back out of it. Didn't work. Then he starts running like a maniac, freaking out & running into walls, doors and furniture. He finally realized that he was doomed and sat down, accepting his fate. He looked like a kidnap victim waiting for the ransom to be delivered.

I have a plethora of cat stories that I'll probably post when I'm suffering from writer's block like I am now. With 5 cats, I'm never short of entertainment. And you all reap the benefits....

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