I've had the opportunity to observe the boys more closely since I've been home with the baby and my daughter. I am now firmly convinced that my suspicion that Chester has been translocating is completely bang on. Otis has perfected a less scientific/engineering-related hobby with the more sensual boneless kitty routine.

Chester has always had two kinds of entrances - the silent oh-you-scared-me entrance and the Kramer entrance where he wildly jumps up on the table and skids across from overshooting. I think he does the latter so we don't think he's entirely capable of the former. Just last night, I was downstairs with the boys and popped upstairs to get ready for bed. I stood at the bottom of the short staircase with the door at the top. I sprinted up the staircase with Otis and closed the door. When I went out to the kitchen, there was Chester sitting looking innocent on the kitchen table. The door to the basement was still closed. The answer - translocation. We've seen it time and time before. me: "Fred, did you let Chester out this morning?" Fred: "No - I haven't opened the door yet" me: "I haven't either. I wonder how he got out - he's sitting under the tree" - the answer - translocation. Occasionally, I've surprised him as he's sat staring at the wall. I know now that he's not communicating with the mother ship but is getting ready to reorganize his molecules to appear on the other side.

We have never suspected Otis of translocating. He's too earthy. He has perfected a jelly-mold routine where he appears to lose every single bone in his body. He curls up beside me in some ridiculous positions in the bed or on the floor and its uncomfortable initially since there are some pressure points. No matter. He just does an imperceptible kitty shrug, all pressure points disappear, and he melds completely into my body. He is an expert at getting comfortable.

Copyright © Susan Mawdsley
February 20, 2001