
What’s the goal of any holiday?
Quality time? There was plenty of that this Thanksgiving. Good food and good conversation? Plenty of that too. Kitty mischief while we were gone? Well, that actually happened the week prior.
It had been a little chilly here that past week, with some getting nervous about another Snowmaggedon repeat. As usual Texas weather this time of year was doing its yoyo thing, and would be back up to fall/slightly summer temps the week after Thanksgiving.
When it got below freezing, I made sure to drip the faucets and we decided share showers to capture the limited hot water. I turned on the main showerhead, and as usual, Elsa jumped up on the shower chair, waiting to be fed her daily dose of water droplets by wet hands.
Unfortunately, I had my back facing Elsa and didn’t see her on the chair. So when I turned on the other showerhead and water gushed out, it smacked her directly in the face. I know this because my husband started laughing as I saw the shower kitty jump down from her perch. “You killed her enthusiasm,” he said.
But the next day Elsa got her revenge. Having not had her fill of water droplets, she apparently obsessed over the dripping guest sink faucet and planted herself in that bathroom. In the morning I made the rounds turning off all the drips and found her in there. Thinking nothing of it, I turned off the faucet and went about my day.
And what a great day it was. We hit up a few small business shows and got some homemade food items. One was at a racetrack and the cars were zooming around preparing for the Thanksgiving race. It was fun seeing their brightly colored advertisements blur past as they zoomed around the loop.
But when we got home, I found the guest bathroom faucet dripping once more. I called my husband in there and he laughed again. “This is cat mischief.” He pointed to the dirty pawprints on the counter that had escaped my attention. Elsa had been turning the knobs to satisfy her water craving, when she had a perfectly good running fountain next to her food.
My husband left, then came back with a rubber band. He wrapped it around the faucet knobs and stepped back to admire his work. “There. Kitty-proofed.”
And it worked. Elsa was not happy. You could hear her meowing in the darkness as we drifted off to sleep.
So now the rubber band is used as needed, like when we go on trips to visit family. I’m so glad we at least don’t have to child-proof our cabinets like some cat owners have to do.