A Fly there was, a Fly! a Fly!

[desperance]

There is a fly in the house, and Barry is going to kill it. If he has to break everything in the house, yea, and the house itself, he is going to get that fly.

I suppose I ought to stop him, but I have no conception how. He is frantic with the hunt, mad with it, flying from bookshelf to window, leaping at light-fittings, pirouetting in mid-air as the cursed creature eludes him yet again. How do you interrupt the mind of a predator so entirely focused on a kill?

Besides, I don't want to stop him. He's having far too much fun, and I am giddy with the giggles. I will guard my desk, my computers, my glass of wine; beyond that, the house can look after itself. Or rather it can't, but it's on its own out there.

Comments

[fastfwd.livejournal.com]

Miss Kitty Calgary is the Deadly Moth Killer on these premises. I can always tell when she has prey in sight--she'll go dancing on her hind legs, batting at her victim with her fore paws.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Barry is coiled steel, with ambition: kind of a cross between Spring-Heeled Jack and the Bloody Red Baron. Utterly delusional, he thinks he can catch them in mid-air, like a swallow. I've tried for photos, but the camera's too slow; he always crash-lands before the flash goes off.

Y'know, I was chatting with my editor & publicist a few years back, when the company's Chief Honcho walked past. She paused to say hullo, listened briefly to our conversation then murmured, "Ah, the Cat Fancy," and excused herself. She would so hate LJ...

[devonellington.livejournal.com]

Don't even try to get in between predator and prey. Let him hunt.

Oh, Iris rolled on a wet,new page yesterday, getting ink all over her back. So I had to scrub the cat. You can imagine how much fun that was.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I can, exactly. Blood, toil, tears & sweat - mostly blood, it would be in this house. Another argument for black cats being best, I say (I have to say these things; he listens). Or is ink toxic, would one have to take it off whether it showed or not? Bizarrely, I know how Elizabethan printers used to make ink (all right, it's not bizarre at all - I wrote a story, which is the only way I ever learn anything), but I have no idea about the constituents of contemporary inks...

[devonellington.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the ink I use (the gel pens) is too toxic to risk her licking it off. So, scrub, scrub, scrub.

Felicia, the cat who died two years ago at age 19, used to be able to jump up and catch bugs in midair with her paws -- clap 'em shut and they were dead little buggers!

The others have tried to learn that, but none of them have ever mastered it. Elsa usually ends up bashing into the walls.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Yeah, the ink I use (the gel pens) is too toxic to risk her licking it off. So, scrub, scrub, scrub.

Uh - scratch, scratch, scratch? Fierce biting? You can take a cat to water, but you cannot make her wash. With Barry, I wouldn't know where to begin... (Well, actually that's not true: I'd begin with heavy gauntlets. But even so, how to keep him in the water, even for a moment - I don't think one person could do it.)

[devonellington.livejournal.com]

Years back, when I still lived in Manhattan, a vet taught me this trick:

Put a piece of screen in the bottom of the sink. Most cats will grasp the screens with their claws.

Grip the cat firmly at the scruff of the neck, and use the dish sprayer.

Of course, in this place, I don't have that hose thing, so it's hold the cat with one hand,scrub with the other.

She wasn't able to get away, but she swore at me the entire time in Feline-ese.

The other two hid because they thought they'd be next.

I've washed Elsa regularly, because she's fascinated by acrylic paint, and whenever I get out the paints, she managed to get out of whatever room I've stashed her and get into the paint -- so it's another scrub job.

And now Iris has learned she's not immune to the scrubbing.

Violet has watched and learned. She's the most cautious of the three.