It’s a cold Sunday afternoon, smack dab in the middle of winter, right before yet another major snowfall. The Kitties are restless, getting underfoot. The humie in residence wants to do some baking, so she breaks out the catnip, sprinkling some on a plate, and some on the kitties’ scratch ramps. The kitties come running. The humie thinks she has solved her problem.
Digging right in, Georgie keeps an eye on her brothers while she licks the plate. Georgie is a proper girl and does not normally put her paws on the plate, but, this is nip
we’re talking about.
Fido always goes for the lid of the nip tub. Not sure why, but Fido really loves the lid. Maybe it’s nip-infused.
And Kitty Roo is rubbing the scratch ramp. The humie thinks everything is under control.
You, dear Reader, are smirking, because you know that that’s when everything goes awry. The resident humie, however, is not as smart you.
And, on cue, disaster strikes. Kitty Roo has sniffed out the still-half-full tub of nip that’s sitting behind me. Kitty Roo (in addition to being able to jump really, really high) has the fastest paws in the West. In the war between humie hands and kitty claws, kitty claws always win.
(I wasn’t even trying to take a picture here – I must’ve squeeze the button subconsciously in the heat of battle.)
While I’m nursing a couple of nasty scratches on my fingers, Kitty Roo picks up the tub with his teeth and carries it off a safe distance away. Then digs in.
Fido spies the tub and sneaks up on Kitty Roo, who’s otherwise occupied.
I wasn’t anywhere near quick enough to capture what happened next, when Kitty Roo and Fido pawed simultaneously at the tub and it exploded upward in a shower of nip.
Meanwhile, Georgie has been ignoring the antics of the boys, lost in her own ‘nip reverie.
Fido and Kitty Roo have been wrestling, and Fido is covered in a light coating of nip. (The humie has given up on trying to salvage the spilled nip. This is a job for the vacuum cleaner.)
Georgie, my proper little girl, gets down with her bad self in a fresh pile of nip.
Georgie gives Kitty Roo the warning evil eye as he prepares to pounce on what he probably thinks is a catnip popsicle.
Fido goes full-blown cracker cat.
Meanwhile, my oldest, the wise and serene Binkers (the half-brother of the other three) has been staying out of things.
But he, too, finally caves to the call of the ‘nip.
Oh, Binkers. Not you too!
Yup. Binkers, too.
“Like, wow, man.”
Don’t let this happen to you. Just say no to the ‘nip, man. Just say no.