The Little Pack

After accumulating several boxes, one day I decided it was time to recycle them. I carried several broken down boxes out to the truck, and had a very difficult time holding onto to them. I was completely perplexed as I continued to practically drop the boxes and had to keep readjusting them. When I got to the truck I started to put the boxes in the bed when suddenly to my surprise a little 5 or 6 pound orange fluffball fell to the ground. And this perfectly illustrates the difference between Archie and Baby Titten. If this had happened with her, she would have been gone in an instant. And if I had the good fortune to catch her, I would have had serious puncture wounds. Archie, on the other hand,  just laid there.  At the time, I admired my superfast reflex to scoop him up, however, in retrospect, in all likelihood, he probably would have just laid there until I helped him. I held him close to my chest, my heart ready to pound out of it as what happened slowly sank in and I realized just how close I came to accidentally throwing him in the dumpster and losing him forever.

I realized afterwards he had been playing his little games, discovered the boxes and thought this was a perfect place to play.

One day, I was doing laundry and switched the load from the washer to the dryer. I turned it on and heard THUNK.. THUNK.. I thought, hmm.. weird.. THUNK… THUNK.. no shoes.. what the… I opened the dryer and surprisingly Baby Titten leaped out. At the time, BT was about 8 months or so. Still curious. Still a pistol. Apparently she had sneaked into the laundry room and decided to explore her surroundings. Oh my God. I cannot convey the immediate, simultaneous fear and relief that I felt. I grabbed her and held her close, and BT, not a cuddler, and even less so then, clung to me for dear life; our hearts pounded in unison. Her fur was static-y and warm, and I was apparently pale as a ghost. We held each other for what seemed like forever. That was beyond a close call. Although she only went around 2 full times, she could easily have snapped her neck in the short amount of time it took me to open the dryer door. To this day I have a fear of the dryer and even though at 15 and 17 pounds respectively, the thuds would be much louder I have to physically touch each cat when the dryer is going to reassure myself they will not be lost in this horrible way.