Not sure if Wayne posted this or not but he wrote it right after Christmas...
__________________________________________________ _____________
High Christmas … A Tale Of Seven Stoned Kitties
One lovely Christmas Eve wife Barbara and I were comfortably ensconced on our comfy sofa unwrapping each other's gifties. Our herd of felines where somewhat impatiently waiting their turn at the brightly wrapped packages. Now some folks would scoff at wrapped presents for cats but they are our family and enjoy the idea of exploring deliciously crinkly packages of their own. For three of them, rescues from the storm, it would be their first Pond Family Christmas and they were all eyes.
Finally their gifties were revealed. Special foods from kitty loving friends afar, cat toys galore and wonder of wonders; two bags of High-Octane catnip!!!
This is a recipe for Christmas merriment and sidesplitting laughter, Kitty Pot and 7 kitties to entertain. Kiki, our eldest lady, zones out like a veteran stoner. Her eyes focus on a world unknown to mere mortals and she floats. Lord help anyone who attempts to poach her stash though.
Tac, the surviving member of the twin brothers who came down from Canada with me, likes his high in private. There he can cut loose yet retain his sober image amongst the rest of the clan. Tripping for him means rolling around on the carpet, alternately chewing and tossing his new catnip mousie and occasionally chasing his own tail around without getting up.
Sunshine, our golden fluffy second girl, eagerly pounces her mousie; purring and growling in turn. When she is high enough she hikes off to her kitty condo and gazes regally down somewhat unfocusedly, on her subjects below. Let one approach, or even think of approaching, and her royal paws fly in a slap fight. Now depth perception being somewhat shot under the influence, neither of the combatants are within two feet of contact.
Grumbles, our big black man, floated happily on the window seat. His mousie was wrapped securely on his chest with two strong arms. He lay mostly on his back, licking busily on his furry mouse and staring at the world which has miraculously turned upside down. His big yellow eyes reflected a "Wow man, coool !!" outlook.
Oliver, who was our first rescue, apparently never had a Christmas before and sat kind of shyly back with his big dark eyes shining in his little orange face. Catnip was the trigger though and soon he was merrily as wasted as the rest. His specialty, perhaps with his downtown New Orleans background, is breakdancing. He places one furry cheek on the floor and propels himself around and around with a blissful kitty grin.
This brings us to our young ones. Gabby, a fat cheeked little bundle of orange tabby love and T-Boy, black and white, Roman nosed, and the little dickens of the crew. Normally jet-propelled, catnip provides the kittens with hyperdrive. They actually seem to out run their own vision which leads to comic strip attempts at reversing direction, especially on the slippery kitchen floor. Everything and everyone becomes a cat toy for this wild pair.
When all 3 yellow kitties are in total chase mode from one end of the house to the other we've dubbed it "The Orange Blossom Special". T-Boy lies in wait like Billy The Kid to leap upon the passing train. Trainwrecks are common.
So if you are having a blue Christmas break out the catnip. Loose fitting clothes are recommended because you will pop a stitch.
