« Misc. | Main | Oh. My. God. »

UnderfootSeptember 29, 2007


Four of them. Miss Idaho is up top, and Harriet, Willie and Waylon are the Black Hole. Boy, they're cute. They like me just fine even though my new hobby is stepping on animals. Every time I take a step, there's a little foot underneath mine. I used to think it was cute when Harriet and Miss Idaho followed me into every room. Then we got Clara and she did the same. Then Digit came home (o, frabjous day) and he took up the following, now that he is Mr. Indoors. The kittens don't follow me -- they just want to be where the action is. Adah, happier than she's ever been, just watches from the top of the fridge. She is the only one escaping the wrath of my heels. No wonder she's so cheerful.

But really. I feel badly every time I hear a high-pitched squeal because I know it's my fault. But they PUT their little feet there, they really do. They stick a paw out, right under my foot, I step, they scream, and I pick up and cuddle. Hey. Wait a minute. Is that a plot?

The kittens (who are not kittens anymore, look at them!)  have an amazing trick: They run at speeds of up to eighty-seven miles per hour through the house. I walk through the house at a normal human pace, maybe a bit slower. I raise a foot because I plan on moving forward, as one does while walking. Suddenly, an entire cat is beneath my foot. Right under it. I stumble, trying to place my foot somewhere other than the floor, where I'll crush that poor cat, but that poor cat has by that time circumnavigated the entire house three times.

It's just safer when they're on the couch.


TrackBack URL for this entry:

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Underfoot:


What is it with kittens and steppings-on? Miss Mardi seems to be constantly underfoot lately, too -- I've stepped on her at least 6 times in the last two weeks! Now she's learned to hop out of the way if I'm walking near her . . .

Our 95-pound shepherd mix is neurotic as all get out, and consequently is always underfoot. More than getting stepped on, he is constantly getting kneed in the side of the head as I go to walk and he happens to be right in front of me. The cats tend to stay hidden most of the day (most likely because whenever they come out, our 3-year-old starts screaming after them - only took a few months for them to catch on to that little trick!). But our one cat Mookie likes to tell us when the food bowls are getting low, and he does that by stepping directly in front of us and meowing piteously, and seems to like to play that trick especially on the stairs! I keep trying to explain to him that, if he kills me on the stairs, he's not eating anything (well, maybe me, but only if I go undiscovered for a few days, I'm sure - I think I'm sure. Actually, Mookie has been voted pet most likely to eat us if we die and go undiscovered. That's the fun times we have at our house!) but he hasn't caught on yet. And I've rambled on enough - amazing I never have anything to blog about...

our Siamese has the habit of tearing past a person, then laying in wait around a corner to jump out and attack with a quick play-bite to the ankle, springing away before a reprimand can be 'issued'. this has resulted in skittish children who don't even want to walk past her to get out of a room. Free cat... what can you exect? I agree that the alarming screech is nerve-wracking. We just never get the chance to hear it here *wink*

i only have 2 wee beasties, and they like to walk right in front of me. When I say, right in front, i mean, it looks like i'm kicking them EVERY. STEP. OF. THE. WAY. Especially frustrating when I'm in a rush.

I can't count the times I've stepped on my cats. I think it is just part and parcel of having pets, especially pets that love you, and the more you have, the more often you step on them. And sometimes it is totally manipulation. I recall having a puppy once years ago whose foot I accidentally stepped on. He limped all day until we took him to the park, where he had so much fun chasing the butterflies that he stopped limping. Until he looked at me, suddenly remembered he was supposed to be milking his injury for all it was worth, and started limping again, even throwing in a little puppy-wimper for good measure. Sheesh.

Oh been there done that times three. And Rufus the Chef is always underfoot in the kitchen in case something launches itself off the kitchen counter.

The comments to this entry are closed.