Time to do some computer work. As soon as I make myself comfortable Smokey parks himself across the printer .

I give him a pat and gently set him on the floor. Like a pianist I stretch out my hands to the keyboard only to have Rocky get there first. I give him a couple of pats but he isn’t going quietly. He hangs his head over the edge of the desk and drools his contentment…right on the keyboard. I gently lift his head up. His response is to turn his attention to the monitor, tail lashing, he stretches up in front of it.

Now I can’t see anything. Enough of this, I take him and set him on the floor. As I sit back up I find myself staring into big dark eyes of my remaining kitty. It’s Buddy’s turn and down goes the paw onto the keyboard, delete goes what  little bit of work I had managed to accomplish.

As I drop my head into my hands I hear a crash, but not just one. No it’s more like a whole series of crashes and bangs as Rocky, upset by being removed from the computer, retaliates by pushing everything off the book shelf. Of course, then he looks to see if I’ve noticed. That done he saunters off to the bedroom for a nap.

Meanwhile Smokey is taking advantage of Rocky’s desertion. He’s made himself at home under the heat lap.

Maybe things will settle down so I can get some work done? Maybe? Please?

Just when I think everything is calm again Buddy comes racing in from the direction of the bedroom. He has something in his mouth. Up in the air it flips. Then around the living room he goes batting it like a hockey player. What does he have? Finally he puts it in his mouth and hops up next to me. Gently he sets down his prize. Apparently he wasn’t in the bedroom. He must have been in the bathroom where he discovered my hair elastics that I keep on the post of the shelf unit.

Smart cat. Dumb human. One more thing I’ll need to hide away.

Evening falls, it’s bedtime. Buddy races to grab the cat bed by the window.

This has been Smokey’s bed for years. Smokey climbs into bed with me and tries to curl up on my head. Just as I doze off I hear a muffled cry. It gets more and more heartbreaking, It sounds almost like he’s strangling. I know that sound. Rocky is talking to his toys. He carries them around in his mouth and calls to them at the same time.

The result would make a great soundtrack for a haunted house. I climb out of bed and go looking for him. I tell him what a good daddy cat he is and hope that will satisfy him ’til morning.  I leave him with his toys and  head back to bed.

3 am. I am startled awake by a blood curdling yowl! I grab a flash light as the racket continues. Buddy is still in the cat bed, Rocky is curled at my feet with his pile of toys. And there is Mr. Cranky Pants. He is standing in the bathroom singing his heart out. I crawl out of bed and approach. He ignores me and continues with his off key serenade. I begin to pet him, he begins to purr and now he follows me back to bed.

I can only imagine what these 3 have in store for me tomorrow.