High Times

I think my cats are Catnipheads. You know, feline stoners.

How do I know and how'd this happen?

Did they all of a sudden, one day, apropos of nada, begin twirling around all Dervish-y? Were they Deadhead trance dancing? Hard to tell – with Coco at any rate. She’s quite the active, acrobatic kitten. Those zippy moves could be her version of the baked boogie. Not our old  boy though. Tripping the groovy fantastic's just not in his repertoire anymore.

Did I find greasy, empty pizza boxes stuffed under the couch? Were there plates of half eaten cookies left in front of the television? Em, no more than usual. *cough*

Was it that The Amazing Bob and I couldn’t find our lighters and roach clips? Oh please – the two of us are stone(d) pros at losing anything and everything smaller than a Fridgidaire. Biz as uzh.

Were my fuzzy little bunny kittens doing a larger shedload of napping? //snort// Did I mention that Coco and Rocco are cats? 15 hours a day is the norm! And why do they sleep so damn much, you ask? Because they can. Of course.

This here was my mondo tip off that the cats have become total heads. Lately, for snack, I’ve been giving them Temptations Blissful Catnip Flavor treats. Normally I save those for special occasions (like, ya know, THURSDAY!) BUT the store had been out of their everyday, NOT party time tasties. For the past week, it’s been Bliss-time at every Snack-time and, boyhowdy, they’ve been pestering me for those bonnes bouches.

I finally found the Whisker Lickin's at our local pet shop. They’re wild for these. OK, to be all accurate and shit, I suppose that should be past tense – WERE wild. I put a few in Rocco’s bowl. He looked up at me and, swear ta Bast, said “‘the fuck's this shit? Where are my damn space cakes, woman!?” Our sweet Coco?  She made a moue of disappointment, clearly communicating “No, no dear. This will NOT fly. Try again.”

*sigh* I have only myself to blame....or something.