Cat proofing the kitchen…

thump…  thump…  thump…

I didn’t think they were that smart.  Minuit, in particular, seems like she doesn’t have two synapses to rub together.  Steve will frequently roll off the ottoman by accident and Lola – well Lola is the sneakiest of the bunch – but it’s not like she’s doing cat calculus in her spare time.

Someone may have been slipping them some organic brain stimulant.  They are now remembering things.  Like where we keep the cat kibble.

thump…  thump…  thump…

I’m not saying that we have a CATS of NIMH case on our hands, but two days ago, they all looked at the kibble bag as if it was some master illusionist, magically appearing from NOWHERE, and then yesterday?

They started opening the cupboard door where it’s kept.    It’s not really like they can open the bag itself, because they don’t have opposable thumbs (yet), but they can sure as shit bite through the side of the bag  guaranteeing that their food goes stale.  Although really, fresh cat kibble and stale cat kibble… I’ve tried them both and neither is particularly tasty to my palate.

So now we have the toddler locks on the cupboard.  And the sad sound that we hear from our starving felines is…

thump…  thump…  thump…

…as they attempt to circumvent our security system.  I’ll have to be on the watch to see if they mount a B&E into David’s makeshift workshop in the basement.  If they learn how to use tools we’re totally screwed.