If cats are so smart …

… then where is that “inborn instinct for survival” in the Kitten? Tuesday night, while the Socialist was off administering his final, I decided to set some “mood”, and got out a bowl, glass beads, and some floating candles I had. I put the beads in the bowl, filled it most of the way with water, then floated some candles on top. I set it on the fance Itanlian coffee table and lit the candles, and for a moment I could forget about looking prentious and just enjoy the zone of flickering light.

This, of course, attracted The Kitten Without A Brain. At first I wasn’t too worried; animals have an inbuilt respect of fire, right? Well, then again, maybe not all animals. This was, for Little Miss Brainless, a brand new toy with perhaps limitless opportunities. I persistenly sushed her away for a bit, but as every cat owners know, cats are far more persistent than owners. I final gave up and resigned myself to simply watching over her, intending to put things to an end if truely did anything dangeroud. I figured at most she’d get a little heat on her nose, and that would finally warn her off in a way I could not.

Kitten would tentatively put a paw out to touch the floating candles, and then pull it back as if reconsidering her move. Finally, she leaned over the bowl to get a better look, and I immediately heard a “wzzzzzt”, followed closely by the smell of burned hair. At about the same time the smell reached my nostrils, the Kitten had reached halfway up the stairs leading to the second floor. She has now evidently learned the power of fire. All her lovely long eyebrow hairs have been shorted to half their length, and are now topped with a white, curley blob that would have to be trimmed off to be removed. She looks ridiculous, though I have no idea if that will translate into lesson learned.

I slept until 1:00 this afternoon. Not a new world’s record or anything, but definitely something I’m not known for. Tonight, even though I’ve taken another Ambien, I’m sleepless. I know that the Ambien is working, because walking a straight line is something that I apparently need remedial classes in at the moment. I have no idea how this entry will turn out under the influence of sleeping aids, but I do know I’ve gone back and removed more doubled words and inserted more omitted words that I’m ever wont to on a regular basis. I do wish I could just drink a little; a tiny snifter of brandy would put this all to rights.

Tonight, while cutting green onions for dinner, it occurred to me that if I saved the bulbs I could plant them and perhaps get a fresh batch of the little taste tempters. I need to get pots and potting soil anyhow, so I may purchase that necessary for me to attempt the great experiment in green onion recycling as well.

Still no word on my tests from last week. I’m calling Dr. Liver tomorrow to see if I can obtain details. I may try to schedule in a new paracetesis this week as well. The last one was relatively unsuccessful, and I’m starting to have true discomfort for the accumulated fluid. I wish I could see to the end of this tunnel.