This morning as I was stumbling toward the kitchen, I noticed Phoebe up on the cat perch, looking like a fat furry little Zen master. She just studied me. I said, "Peewee!" and she said, "Miam!"
I went over to pet her and noticed what looked like cardboard or brown paper on her back. "Oh, poor Feebs," I said. "How did this happen?" I pulled on the cardboard, but it was really stuck to her.
I felt around and grasped a hard bit of twine. Somewhere in the house was a small fancy shopping bag missing a quarter of the bag and one of the handles.
Easing the handle around, I popped it off her, but she stayed on the tree. I wondered how long she'd been up there, waiting for me to wake up and come rescue her.
Usually, I make a habit of snipping those handles in two and throwing out the bag, but this one had lingered, due to some very bad housekeeping.
Most cats would have gone absolutely bat shit and knocked themselves out, trying to get the evil bag away from them. For all I know, Phoebe might have done it.
Did it happen at 9:40 when I fell asleep? Or did it happen just an hour before I woke up?
Either way, Phoebe impressed me with her coolness.
To convince her that she could walk without the evil bag following her, I picked her up and put her on the floor and nudged her with my foot. She said, "Miam!" again and waddled over to the water bowl.
Five minutes later, she was back on her perch, batting away all who would dethrone her. Phoebe is one cool cat.
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