Earlier in the week, something out on the deck galvanized Arby from a sound sleep on the bed to wide-awake excitement. He leaped down and scooted underneath the curtains in order to get a closer look.
His little apple-head swiveled back and forth a few times and then he locked in on what the "something" was.
Poom was out there, doing acrobatics up and down the tupelo tree. I should have known.
Up the tree. Down the tree. Sideways on a branch. A bit of crash to the deck. Back up again.
Finally, Arby got so excited that his inner-kitten took over and he leaped against the glass several times in order to, I assume, bring Poom to order. It's remarkable how brave Arby is when there's a pane of glass between himself and his foe.
Eventually Arby came out from behind the curtain to sit with me and watch the shadow-puppet Poom skitter up and down the tree.
And then it all became too much for staid, 15 year old boy who should have known better. He made a dash for Poom's shadow and launched himself up the curtain. His claws dug in the sheer fabric and then I heard a sharp ripping sound. At that point, he wanted down, but his claws were stuck in the fabric. So there he hung like a furry ham until I was able to lift him down.
Which I did, and then went to get the camera. When I returned, Poom was still shooting up and down the tree and Arby was still mesmerized. All of these pictures were taken after Arby had added his own version of "sheer" to the curtains (If you look below Poom's shadow foot, you'll see the hole).
Which I did, and then went to get the camera. When I returned, Poom was still shooting up and down the tree and Arby was still mesmerized. All of these pictures were taken after Arby had added his own version of "sheer" to the curtains (If you look below Poom's shadow foot, you'll see the hole).
It doesn't end there: Yesterday evening, Poom followed me into the bedroom and, for the first time, noticed the rip. He marched right up to the curtain, never taking his eyes off that hole 4 feet up. He froze there, just staring. I'm sure that anyone reading this would know exactly what was going to happen. But me, I just stupidly stood wondering what he was going to do next. Such a surprise when he rocketed upwards and himself hung like a ham from the curtain while I listened to the delicate tearing sound of fabric slowly rending.
I'll be sewing new curtains.
I'll be sewing new curtains.
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