like monty....who just tipped over and sent flying everywhere, an entire small litter box...why? because he was trying to balance on the side so he could see into the empty cage above him better. (the cage is only a foot and a half off the floor, he could have seen just as well if he had taken a step or two back)...it looks like a fun mess to clean up once i actually feel like moving out of this chair.
there is also the other klutzy cats, like toby, and pops and stripe, who are under the mistaken impression that they can all jump. they can't, they suck at it. and everyday they try to lauch, fly and almost get there, grabbing onto something in front with their claws, crash landing an inch from their goal (along with whatever was on that towel on top of the counter....usually a full water and food bowl or a huge pile of my mail which is now soaking wet) or hook, who generally clears my computer desk at least once a day, cuz his one eyed depth perception sucks too but at least he has an excuse.
and then there is tyra, whose cement block feet with her imbedded spikey nails are deadly weapons, and despite telling her this for the past ten years, she still doesn't get it when she is happily saying hello, that gee tyra, that freaking hurts!. and who has not been crushed by the happy to see you jazz who suddenly finds someone sitting down and just waiting for her 90 pounds of cuddle-muffin to land smack in the middle of their gut?, or percy, the galumping steer youth, who thinks humans enjoy playing bucking bronco as much as he does....and if they don't, most assuredly must have a two litre yummy milk baby bottle hidden somewhere inside their shirt, and if they don't, will then watch the sleeve of their shirt disappear down his throat. hopefully the arm got out in time.
at least half the mess around here is from curious cats who think they are agile. half my aches and pains are from very good friends who are saying hello. half my headaches are from trying to outsmart the going to be much, much bigger than me but still think i am their favorite mom and like to physically tell me so a little bit too often.
of course there is the not so innocent around here too, there is nothing innocent about dexter's robbing the garbage for the tinned food cans that just miraculously went in there five minutes before, or maudie's tossing 50 million pieces of dog food on the floor because she is digging thru the bowl with her nose to find that one very special kind that she likes best, or copper's calculating gaze as he sums up a new volunteer and plans his next great escape.there is not too much that is innocent about phoebe shredding every single paper product in my van in the hopes of finding a sausage mcmuffin that she might have forgot to eat on the previous weekend, or in wilbur's attempts to earn a place in the guiness book of world records for a small pug's determination to create the world's largest indoor urine lake...except the human's keep mopping it up so it is not his fault that thus far he has failed.
some animals are not the least bit innocent, they are masterminds at planning, implementing and planning, and implementing again, a really big mess. and of course those other half of everythings, are not only not so innocent, those ones are just plain out to get me i am sure.