circumscribation or death

yesterday afternoon i emptied and put way up on a shelf our free feeder. no more 24/7 drive-thru's for you, my pretties.

no one seems to be upset. [by which i mean, no one has planted a wet hairball on my pillow.]

w goes into his own bedroom to eat now. he hasn't quite caught on yet that when he's put in his own room, that's his cue to eat what's in the bowl. the other two ate a bite or two from their bowls (in teh accustomed spot by the door), then walked over to w's closed door to sniff and probably crow. after fifteen minutes i let him out again.

dinner over, i put away all the leftover food and gave everyone fresh filtered water from the brita. loves all round.

also yesterday, but earlier, the twins went into their own room while w and i played with first the peacock feather (woefully used by now, bent, no longer proud) and the strange much-loved toy: a cloth-covered rattle-ball with dangly faux rabbits' feet attached, all stuck on a thin plastic stick.

w gamboled and jumped and pounced. i tried the laser pointer, thinking "let's avoid boredom!" but he couldn't have cared less about the red spot. he stared off into middle distance as meerakai's arms shot out from under the bedroom door, desperately reeeeeaching for the light, the light, the light!

[cross reference this very interesting article about identifying your cat's prey of choice: http://vet.osu.edu/2219.htm.]

so out came the peacock feather and the strange much-loved toy again. he also has a lot of fun with one of those rubber colored bracelets (mine says "Got Guts?").

later that night, as i was trying to get to sleep, w chased meera around and around and around. oh the yelps! the hisses! the smacks!

and even late-later, when meera got sick of the play and found sanctuary atop the blue chair, w ran just for the hell of it. he skidded around corners; he ricocheted off bean bags; he lost his footing on the linoleum and crashed into doors. picked himself back up and went sliding under my bed. ("----SAFE!!----" screamed the imaginary ump. "Sheeeeeit," moaned the imaginary opposing team.)

point being, i in no way tired him out earlier. this boy has energy to BURN. he was probably thinking back on his wild loose days of danger, on how the night would stretch ahead of him in all its trashcan and feral friends and dirty sidewalk glory. he has become circumscribed. he has become fat.

well, w, i can help you with one of those things but not the other. trust me when i tell you that you wouldn't have lasted on those dirty sidewalks much longer. it was circumscribation or death, and we're so glad you let yourself be caught.

loves to aunt jennie.