Picking Up the Pieces

Well believe it or not, today was the very first time we had to clean up after one of the cats broke something. I know, it's hard to believe that in a house with five cats, nothing has gotten destroyed before today. Mind you, the cats cause all sorts of calamities and mild aggravations almost daily. They run around the house like, well, like animals. This morning at 7am, when I went into the kitchen to get the coffee started (and my husband was still trying to sleep in a few extra minutes), Maarten- my sweetest baby- jumped up onto the breakfast bar, didn't quite make it, his paws sliding on the cold granite, and down he went onto a bar stool then the floor. Unfortunately he took a large glass container filled with potpourri down with him. I only had time to go "AAHHH!" as I saw the whole thing happening, reaching out a hand that was much too slow. And the laws of the universe and gravity took over, and glass quickly met hardwood floors. Needless to say, my husband was up out of bed quickly, and we spent the next half hour cleaning up. I hate breaking glass of that type, the thin stuff that shatters into a zillion trillion pieces and explodes out everywhere. I was finding shards ten feet away in the living room carpet. We felt like we got it all, but moments ago I found blood drops on the wood floors and a few on the dining room rug. I followed the trail, but it faded away. I checked all the kitties' paws, but no one appeared to be bleeding or injured. Maarten seems to be fine after his tumble, at least he didn't have any problems running towards the can opener for a little tuna awhile ago. Still, I will watch everyone to make certain no one is favoring or licking at a paw. I know from personal memories, stepping on glass is not a fun experience.


(Maarten on a more calm day)