Once upon a time, while my husband and I were sitting on the couch watching cartoons on the laptop, I noticed that there were no cats in our general vicinity. This is not normal in my house. Usually you can see at least four without turning your head and five to six if you use your peripherals. Slightly concerned, I leaned forward to look for them.
I didn't have to look far. At the end of the hallway, right before the kitchen, I saw them. Six cats just sitting in a circle. "Ah, the cats are having a meeting." I thought, turning back to the computer as if that were completely logical.
A moment later it dawned on me that no matter how many human tendencies I like to attribute to my cats, it was highly unlikely that they could schedule and attend a meeting. Not only that, but why would they arrange a six cat meeting? Wouldn't it be better to invite the whole household? (Unless of course, the meeting was about Bob and Lola, then it would make complete sense for them to not be invited.) In any case, it seemed prudent to get up and see what 3/4 of my cat population found so interesting.
None of them paid me any attention as I got off the couch and made my short journey down the hall. As I approached the circle, I saw Harry reach out to the middle of it, claw extended, to stab one of these guys:
|Photo from: http://www.information-and-facts.com/get-rid-of-silverfish|
A house centipede. Disgusting. Harry got himself a good stab in, then D had his opportunity, then little Miss Mona took her shot, all dainty like, and all the while the little thing was running like crazy in the circle, trying to escape.
Yes, indeed. My cats were very politely going around the circle, taking turns torturing and killing the nasty little guy, one stab at a time. I don't know that any mother has ever been more proud while watching her children share.