How to Play Saturday Morning Kitten Footie

Looks innocent enough.

Possibly not what immediately comes to mind.  Read on.

What You’ll Need

1)    One kitten, old enough to eat solid foods but young enough still to be curious and active.

2)    One Saturday morning with nothing on the calendar. No projects, no appointments, no chores at all. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. Make it happen.

3)    A teammate with an astute appreciation for time-wasting, a sense of fun, and the temperament to withstand numerous tiny bites and scratches.

4)    One fairly indestructible bed covering, or one which is already far beyond further damage.

How to Play   

1)    As the morning light tiptoes into the room, you and your teammate are conscious much earlier than necessary because you have reached an age, now, when you wake up at the same time every day, whether you need to get up or not.

2)    If necessary, wake up the kitten also.

Left-side play.

    3)    Recline comfortably, propped against as many pillows as possible. One person, usually the one on the left, begins play by moving his or her left big toe ever so slightly until the kitten notices and attacks.  Immediately cease movement of that toe.

    4)    While the kitten is still attacking the big toe of the person on the left, the person on the right begins to jiggle his/her right big toe in an alluring fashion until the kitten’s attention is diverted, and with one enormous pounce, the kitten lands on the opposite side of the bed from where she was originally, and begins to shred the bed covering over the right toe of the right side person.  Immediately cease movement of that toe. Continue play in this manner until the kitten loses interest in toes.

Right side play.

    5)    Using the same technique, and keeping all appendages safely under the indestructible bed covering, continue play using hands, alternating from one person to another until the kitten loses interest in hands. Revert to toes.

6)    Laugh with your teammate like idiots at every pounce as though you haven’t played this game hundreds of times and have never, ever, before watched a kitten rip all over your shredded bedspread.

7)    Repeat steps  3-6 in a pseudo-infinite loop.

8)    While repeating steps 3-6, muse aimlessly about how many cats and kittens have lived with you over the years and how they’ve added to your enjoyment of life.

9)    As you notice out of the corner of your eye how the morning sun lights up his face, shift your attention to your teammate.  Be reminded of how he laughs with his eyes more than any other part of his body. Marvel at how, just at this moment, he still looks like the 17-year-old you fell in love with. Think of how he’s made your life so much richer than you ever could have imagined. How when you were young and breathlessly silly over the boy, you thought you couldn’t possibly love anyone in the world as much as you did him.  Now you know it.

Fifteen bottles and counting.

   10) It occurs to you that you could measure your life together by the cats you’ve known, and also, you think oddly, by the number of those little bottles of Tabasco sauce that you’ve gone through together. It also occurs to you to wonder how many more kittens and bottles of Tabasco sauce the two of you have left to share.

   11) Notice abruptly that you can vaguely make out the shape of your mother-in-law standing slightly past your teammate's right shoulder. She looks exactly like she did just after your father-in-law died, a few months before she followed him.  She has the same sweet, sad look on her face as the morning she told you in a broken whisper how hard it was after nearly fifty years together, to wake up every morning, every single one, without her high-school sweetheart there anymore.

Patsy loves Jerry forever, and vice versa.

   12) In an unsuccessful attempt to ease the painful little catch in your chest that that the last step produced, take in a sharp breath. Remember to breathe out.

   13) Now turn your attention to the door as the dog pushes it open and walks in to snort disgustedly at you for giving too much attention to the kitten again. She gives the three of you a hard stare.  For a moment you all stare back at her.  Suddenly, she passes an explosive parcel of gas and twists quickly around to face her own bottom as if trying to catch it.  Then she turns back to you with a look that says, “Where on earth did that come from?”

Our Scout is a long-suffering dog.

14) Laugh. A lot. Rolling all over each other and the tatty bed covering, completely routing the kitten.  Laugh as though this morning, and the both of you, will go on forever.

Not always quite as idyllic as they appear here,
 but not bad for thirty years, three kids, one dog, nine cats,
and fifteen little bottles of Tabasco sauce.

The thing to remember about Saturday Morning Kitten Footie is that there are no losers in this game.  Only winners.  Including the dog.

Hope you find laughter in your day. Thanks for visiting.  Come again soon.

Will grow up to be luckier than she deserves.

Leann

No kittens, dogs, or husbands were harmed in the writing of this blog.

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