Bird watching is a favorite sport in our household, and Kiko is by far the most active participant!

She shifts between perching in the kitchen window, and pouring herself into this awkward spot spread between a kitchen stool and a small table looking out onto our front porch.

Suddenly Ms. Kali, our senior cat, is obsessed with the garage.

For almost all of the nearly six years she has lived with us, she has shown no interest in any what goes on outside the door that we use to get in and out of the house.

We like that because it means that in the event a cat does bolt out while we’re coming into the house, the cat can’t get out into the big world and risk running away and getting lost. It’s kind of a feline air lock. We come into the garage from outside. Close the door behind you. Walk over over to the door into the house. Walk inside, where we sometimes have to block Kinikini from getting out.

Kini used really want to get past us into the garage. That is, until I forgot he was out in the garage a few times and he had to spend the night there. Or, worse, he ran out in the morning a couple of times and then the yard maintenance guys next door started making a racket and the noise scared him. Suddenly he was really happy to get back inside.

But now Kali has joined in, and she spends an inordinate time lurking just inside the door in case an opportunity might present itself to sneak out. What does she do in the garage? Like Kinikini, she makes several rounds, sniffing the boxes of stuff stored around the sides, putting cat footprints on the car’s front windshield…nothing major.

We can’t figure out what has triggered the sudden interest. There hasn’t been any evidence of a rat or other critter that might spark her hunting instinct. Just the same old, same old stuff slowly gathering dust.

I suppose we should be pleased that this is the only feline-related thing we have to worry about.

Mynah!

Oh, here come the cats, including Kinikini in his kaleidoscopic splendor.

I should explain. We have put little cat cutouts on our windows and doors facing out to the back deck. They are designed as prisms that sparkle when hit by light and serve to warn birds not to fly into the otherwise clear surfaces. Since installing them, our bird strike rate has fallen almost to zero. And when the sun hits just right, those prisms spread their colors across the room. It really is pretty cool.

They’re back! The cats, that is.

I’ve been busy for three days scanning old snapshots and creating digital versions stored online with Amazon Photos and Google Photos. Yup, I haven’t figured out which is best, so for now I’m uploading to both services.

But in the process, I’ve got lots of stuff strewn across the kitchen counter. There’s the scanner and its cables. My 15″ Macbook Air. Next to it, a photo album opened as I take it apart. Piles of photographs sorted into groups for scanning. Another pile of discards and duplicates. A magnifying glass. A pair of drug store glasses when the print is just too fine for me to read. And then there’s the usual clutter.

Somehow the cats have sensed that this does not equal a playground. They’ve more or less left me alone. Perhaps the cursing under my breath sends a message. I don’t know.

There was one dramatic moment. We were in the kitchen getting ready for lunch when suddenly things exploded. The was a loud crash, a black and white blur flew onto the counter, a koa cutting board levitated several feet and made a second loud crash as it hit the floor, and the black and white blur disappeared across the living room. On inspection, it seems that (a) Kiko launched herself onto one of our kitchen stools on her way toward the counter; (b) as she leapt to the counter, the equal and opposite reaction that physics class taught us sent the stool crashing to the floor. If you’re into crashing sounds, this was a very satisfying one! (c) The now scared flying cat tried to change directions, and her pivot sent the cutting board several feel out onto the floor; and (d) a wild and puffed up Kiko stopped on the other side of the living room, looked back, and launched into a moment of displacement licking.

If you’ve never heard of this, here’s what I’m talking about.

AI Overview

Displacement Grooming • Seattle Area Feline Rescue

Cat’s displacement licking is a self-soothing behavior where a cat suddenly grooms to cope with stress, anxiety, or conflict, acting as a temporary distraction or calming mechanism, like when they misjudge a jump or encounter an aggressive animal.

Somehow nothing was broken, all my scanning paraphernalia was untouched, the moment was quickly forgotten, and she returned for a bit of reassurance. Not too much, mind you. She is a cat.

In any case, here’s what you’ve really been waiting for!