Well, yesterday at 5:50 a.m. I got jolted wide-awake when I heard a thud. It wasn't just any old thud...it sounded like a ceramic pot... Opening my eyes and focusing on the time on my alarm clock, I sighed. Why, oh why, must I be awaken out of my slumber by a thud when clearly I had an extra 60 minutes of sleep for which I have been deprived...
Quietly I laid still willing the noise and the mess (which I assumed I would find) as a part of my dreams and not reality. I knew better. The thud was real and if I wasn't mistaken, it was more than likely the cactus previously perched on my bathroom windowsill. (Sigh.)
I walked into the bathroom to view the situation. I was right. I hate it when I am right...not all the time...but in this particular situation.
Thankfully the cactus is not large and the pot in which it resided was small...when I say "small," I do mean approximately the size of a Dixie cup.
The mess was quickly swept up. The cacti was replaced in its pot sans soil. Maggie was given a stern teacher-like look.
I wonder if before knocking the cactus off the windowsill, if Maggie had said (I am imagining her using a John Wayne voice), "Hey there, little cacti. This ledge ain't big enough for the two of us." She couldn't draw a gun because... A) she's a cat; B) I would never in a million, gazillion years give her a weapon. HELLO! She's psychotic! C) she does not have thumbs...and/or a holster for which to hold her firearm.
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