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So there I am, microwaving my dinner, the way you do... and I reach in and get the hot bowl and I'm cradling it in a towel and heading for the counter... and I look down, and there is Morgan (my small, koi-colored, back-up cat) staring at the floor. So I look too, and... there's a thousand-legger, kind of a teenage-sized one, scuttling across the floor. With Morgan watching it, raptly, but not exactly doing anything, of course.

So without breaking stride, I stomp right on that fucker. And I keep going, and put my microwaved bowl onto the counter, and I'm stirring it, and then I look around.

And -- yes -- Morgan has *EATEN* the flattened remains of the thousand-legger. Slurp, right off the floor. Gone.

So let me get this straight.

I live with two pint-sized pumas who, while miniature, are nonetheless the product of millions of years of keenly-honed evolution resulting in compact little predatory machines.

BUT... they need to wait for *ME* to turn the bugs into Insect Pâté, before they can eat them.

Oh sure. Like *that* makes sense.



( 18 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 24th, 2005 07:02 pm (UTC)
the product of millions of years of keenly-honed evolution resulting in compact little predatory machines.

But without the mass or weight to make centipede/millipede pancakes, which is where you come in. *g* Besides, I always associate their evolution with all the crazy stuff they can get humans to do *for* them.
Oct. 24th, 2005 07:17 pm (UTC)
Oh, I beg to differ. I know exactly how many pounds per square inch they are able to get out of their little paws. I know it because I have felt it many a time. Particularly on my bladder. (And thousand-leggers are extremely soft-bodied.)

Oct. 24th, 2005 07:16 pm (UTC)
eeeeewwwwwww! *makes wrinkly face* Well, at least they had a wee snack. *g*
Oct. 24th, 2005 07:18 pm (UTC)
I am *SO* grossed out, you cannot believe.
Oct. 24th, 2005 07:50 pm (UTC)
I aplaud your savoir faire. Very classy not to spill adrop while stomping.
Oct. 25th, 2005 03:21 am (UTC)
Morgan was just keeping you in place, LOL! 2000 years ago, cats were worshiped as Gods. They have never forgotten this. Why do something yourself when the slave can do it?
Oct. 25th, 2005 03:29 am (UTC)
The thing you have to ask yourself is what was the thousand-legger or Scutigira doing in your home. They are not low on the food-chain and are actually very beneficial arthropods. They feed readily on cockroach nymphs, flies, moths, bedbugs, crickets, silverfish, earwigs, and other insects and small spiders. They do have a venomous bite, but think of all the other critters they keep at bay in your life!
Oct. 25th, 2005 07:00 am (UTC)
I know, I know! And there have been a few times when I have live and let live with regard to them. (I also try to live and let live with regard to spiders, for much the same reason, even though the little bastards *do* bite me; I kind of have to anyway, as the washer and dryer in the basement is, like, Six Flags over Spiders, because of the light, which attracts the gnats.) But *dude*. They FREAK me OUT.
Oct. 25th, 2005 09:56 am (UTC)
Me too! Saw one the other day and had to stomp it to stop the all-over ickiness they cause. Those things creep me the heck out...and I _like_ spiders.
Oct. 26th, 2005 08:09 am (UTC)
Oh my god. Why did I click on that link?????? *shudder*
Oct. 26th, 2005 02:03 pm (UTC)
He he he...
Oct. 30th, 2005 03:03 pm (UTC)
Well, apparently my stomping instincts are not having an adverse effect on the local scutigira population, because I just saw the MOST HUMONGOUS one that I believe I have ever, ever seen, in my bathroom. Don't know where it came out of, but I only saw it for a couple of seconds before it squeezed back underneath the sink vanity, so I only had time for an "oh my GOD!" and then it was gone.

And... fine. It can have under the sink. It can have anywhere that is out of sight and out of physical contact with me, frankly. That's all I ask.

Oct. 25th, 2005 03:44 am (UTC)
bwahahaha! ::::faints laughing:::

your cat just has really good taste in pate (sorry, can't figure out the doohicky on my laptop for the appropriate addition to that word.)

your description of this meal is *perfect*. *g*
Oct. 25th, 2005 05:54 am (UTC)

Oh, you know they just wanted to play with it for hours, like maybe chase it under your bed then lose track of it, thereby ensuring a wonderful night's sleep for you.
Oct. 25th, 2005 06:39 am (UTC)
It could be worse...

Oct. 25th, 2005 07:02 am (UTC)
Thank you SO much.

Actually, we had a Centipede Incident 2 months ago. I have no idea whether it was venomous or not, but it was only about 2" long. But that was the first time I'd ever seen a live centipede, let alone trucking across my living room, so that was freaky enough for me.

Cats were totally useless in that case, too.
Oct. 25th, 2005 12:46 pm (UTC)
Centipedes. Yick. Centipede pancake. Double yick. At least you didn't have to pick it up after you squished it, and cats are less inclined than dogs to try to kiss you...

I don't really want to think any further than that!

And just as a btw GO CANUCKS GO!! :oD
Oct. 26th, 2005 08:36 am (UTC)
The irony is that Morgan *does* like licking and nipping when she's affectionate. She tried that later that night, and I was all like, "Ewww! No! Thousand-legger breath!"


It's really amazing to me the degree of sheer *affection* I feel for these guys. Though, it does support my theory that one of the things that really absorbs us about following a sport has to do with the stories that unfold, not just the physical action of the game. (Even though of course, I just find hockey really fun to watch, and I now know enough to seriously appreciate that.)

But then, you get to know the guys -- you know them instantly by number so you know who is out there at any given point even without the announcer telling you, you know what the lines are normally and therefore you know when the lines are being mixed or what the usual special teams are, and every one of those numbers is an individual you recognize and you know things about (like struggles he's having or when his last goal was, or even just, what his usual skill is, what you can expect from him or what would be extraordinary).

I've watched other teams play, and it's fine, but... I always feel the *gap* in the experience of watching, if I don't know who the guys are. It's self-perpetuating, of course; the more I watch the Canucks the better I get to know them (I'm still getting to know some of the newer guys). And naturally I get to know some of the individuals on the teams they face frequently, too -- whereas, the Eastern Conference? I know very little about. (And given the new schedule, I guess that matters less, and I'm going to know even less about it now.)

Anyway -- yay, another win last night! It's definitely a conundrum, because you know intellectually that they cannot win every game. But you *want* them to win every game.

This schedule has been brutal so far. Playing the Avs 3 times in one week? Yikes! And 4 divisional games in one week -- those are the ones you *really* want them to win, of course. Mostly I'll be really glad when these two games in Colorado are over with.

Speaking of stories... :) I was rereading "Puck" recently. That story still inspires great affection in me, as well. :)
( 18 comments — Leave a comment )