Well, it’s been another Wonderpurr weekend here at my house, the place where I live.
Dori had quite an adventure yesterday — Sunday — while we were on Yard Patrol.
She’s new at Yard Patrol. She’s been 100% indoor kitty since she was rescued from backyard in January 2013 with her Dad, Nikolas, and her mom and fursibs, all now adopted. She was only a baby when she was patrolling the woods, so she’s forgotten everything her pawrents showed her.
The fenced-in yard where I patrol is safe with high walls, trees, bushes, bamboo, flowery vines, a huge fountain, and a nice cool patio. When I go out, I take a spin around the perimeter to see if anything has changed, and then I settle under my favorite flowering vine for a nap.
On Sunday my pawrents were chilling on the patio, while Frank climbed the fence to take a sentry position overlooking the backyard where the raccoons hang out. That left me to keep an eye on Dori. This would be maybe her sixth time in the yard, but the other times the weather was cooler and the bugs ‘n other creepy crawlies had not yet come out of hibernation.
She seemed like she was doing pretty good, wandering among the new bushes Dad put in, and exploring the gravel walkway, pawing a few stones.
I immediately knew what she had found. One of those tiny squishy jumpy toys that appear in my yard when the weather gets warm.
Now from experience I know these toys are better left alone. I’ve never played one with, but I’ve seen my other fursibs play and I’ve seen the outcome.
Before I could meow to warn Mom of what Dori had found, I saw Dori pick up her new toy and march happily across the yard. This was at the same time I heard Dad say, “Dori has a frog.”
Mom was immediately on her feet (foot since she’s still wearing the Scary Boot) and lumbered over to take the frog from Dori. See, its a firm and fast rule at my house: You can’t keep something you find until it gets Mom’s stamp of approval. And Mom rarely gives her stamp of approval, so we cats pretty much try to hide what we find.
Dori is new, so Dori didn’t know about hiding her tiny squish jumpy toy.
Mom didn’t have to worry about getting Dori to drop her toy, cuz a mere second later she had dropped it and was foaming at the mouth.
Buckets of foam poured from her mouth. And she was running like a rabbit all over the yard, with my pawrents trying to catch her–and *snickers behind paw* — failing miserably.
I felt bad about Dori having a bad taste in her mouth, but it was really funny watching Mom and Dad chase her.
Then Dad got the “brilliant” idea to open the door to the house so Dori could go inside. I later heard Mom telling her sister, “Makes total sense not to trap her in a tiny fenced yard, but rather let her inside a 3,000 square foot home so we can chase her up and down stairs, and from room to room, with Dori spewing foam with every step.”
I will now let Dori finish telling you the rest of her story:
DORI: *clears throat* Ahem!
I ALMOST DIED!
I had a NEAR-DEAF experience!
I saw a bwight light at the end of a tunnel, and was walking toward it when my meowmy grabbed me, hauled me into the baffroom and shut the door.
Then she poured water into my mouf and made me spit over and over.
Then Daddy passed Mom a cup of milk. I shouldn’t have milk. Last week I licked the bottom of a cereal bowl and I frew up over and over. But the taste of da tiny squishy jumpy toy was so bad… Mom rubbed milk on my gums and I licked it. So she rubbed some more.
I had stopped foaming by then, but me and Mom waited in the baffroom to see if I would frow up from having milk on my gums.
“So,” Mom said while we were waiting. “What did we learn about playing with frogs?”
I hung my head. “Fwogs are da Devil’s food, and I’m an Angel, so I shouldn’t eated them.”
“Good enough.” She let me go downstairs and fed me kibbles and turkey lunch meat.
My pawrents watched me all day to make sure I was fine, and I was. So this morning I got to join Hwermie and Fwank on Yard Patrol.
I didn’t see any fwogs, but I’d alweady planned to ignore them if I did see one.
I may be only dis many *holds up 3 claws* but I’m no fool.