Well, it was a long, strange weekend. I had a booth at the Community Festival, which is a large gathering started in the early '70s by hippies (now old hippies). The festival is a plethora of tie-dye, music, flowers, art, and just plain old fun.

Unfortunately, having a booth at the festival necessitated us leaving the poor cats alone at home for much of the weekend. Friday night, they just looked at us like "Okay, we'll forgive you. Especially if you were away all that time hunting The Big Giant Cat Food Beast."

But by Saturday night, they were quite nonplussed. "Okay, *we* haven't seen that big banquet yet, so we don't believe you were out hunting The Big Giant Cat Food Beast. How dare you go out somewhere instead of staying home and feeding and petting us, as is required in our contract?!"

Trill was ticked. "Hmmm," he thought, "Daddy's eating some of that food they didn't get for us. I'll just get some of his." He hops on one side of the couch. "No, Trill, you can't have my Doritos", DH says. "Well," thinks Trill, "then I'll just hop on the other side of the couch." "Trill. No. You can't have my chips," DH says. Then Trill spies the chip clip laying on the couch (you know, those little things you clip to open bags of chips to keep them fresh). The next thing we know, Trill has grabbed the clip in his mouth, and jumped down on the floor, thoroughly happy with himself for making such an unusual kill. We, of course, are rolling with laughter at the most bizarre sight of Trill with a big, purple plastic clip in his mouth.

Not ten minutes later, Wolfie is going bonkers. Now what? I catch a glimpse of a little black thing sticking out of Wolfie's mouth, as my DH rushes for paper towels and runs upstairs after Wolfie. "What's going on," I ask? "Wolfie's got a water bug!" DH yells, chasing the big white fuzzy one up to the bathroom. How in the world did a water bug get in here, I wonder. "He won't give it to me!" DH yells, as I hear him begging Wolfie to let the bug go. "Honey, you gotta tell him what a good hunter kitty he is and thank him," I yell up the stairs. A few seconds later, he yells "Got it!" and escorts the poor bug outside.

Maybe next time I do that festival I'd better bring them back those organic cat treats.

Copyright © Ginger-lyn Summer
July 4, 2000