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"The Cats, The Nordictrack and Me"
I first noticed it had gone missing when I put my black suit on. The cleaners had obviously moved the buttons over in an attempt to confuse me. I haven't yet figured out how they managed to make the zippers shorter but I know that they are behind this.
Behind. Well, yes now that you mention it, it may have gotten a tad bigger. I can accommodate 2 cats on my lap. My pantyhose feels like a tourniquet, and if I don't get up and circle my desk every 60 minutes my nailbeds turn blue.
Now I know we have a NordicTrack somewhere at home. I remember Mr. Tally trying to put it together. (*Smirk* ) I just hope it hasn't rusted from disuse. Did it come with instructions? I can't recall.
Removing the clothes piled on top of the machine and setting it up in the middle of the room has drawn quite an audience. The felines are all huddled around the thing, trying to decide what it is. There is considerable discussion going on here. I struggle to put on a pair of shorts, which have apparently shrunk a size or two. Gizmo is running around in frantic circles crying "Stand back, she's going to blow!" As I pull out my tennies from the closet, Kenya begins to prance around anxiously. "Oooooh nooo!", she wails, "she's putting on The Shoes!". Our cats think tennis shoes are weapons of mass destruction. Sammy watches with quiet intensity. Does this thing go off? Tally is totally dumbfounded and Zeke is suspicious. Donovan sizes up the situation in his cool, objective manner. "She can't be serious. Is she really going to get on that thing? Can that thing really hold her?" Boots is snickering. "Geez, it better be built on steeldeck."
Well, I guess I figured out where the word catty comes from.
The NordicTrack is quite an experience. At the sound of the clattering slats, cats scatter across the room like a rack of billiards exploding. I can see claw skidmarks on the hardwood. Tally knocks over a lamp in the process. Zeke has taken off for parts unknown, convinced this thing is going to rip itself off its moorings any second and go lurching down the hallway. He's been watching too many Stephen King movies.
Six wide-eyed faces are bobbing up and down hypnotically as they follow its movement. Donovan is throwing up a hairball in his excitement. Either that or he's trying to cheer me on. Kenya is fearless now that the shoes are up off the floor, and she's inching her way closer, paw by paw. She's gonna get bopped and end up in the next room, I'm certain of it. I keep breaking my stride to shoo away a furface that's hovering too close to those sliding skies. This isn't going too well.
I holler for Mr. Tally, and together we round them up and put them out of the room. Now its just me and Dan Rather. Yeah, well, I'd rather be anywhere than here. I'm so out of breath its embarrassing. So when exactly did my lungs shrink? My gasping and panting is now clearly audible throughout the house. I can hear Mr. Tally smirking in the next room.
I see anxious paws jabbing under the door and little cat feet crossing back and forth. I hear general murmuring. They think their food source is at risk. If mom dies on that contraption its all up to dad. Does he know how to use a can opener? Does he have directions to PetSmart? Do we still have to take our medicine?
I'm finished. I open the door, and there they are. 6 pairs of surprised eyes staring up at me. Surprised I survived. Yup, mom put on quite a show today.
I'm thinking elastic for my new wardrobe.
Tally’s Tales
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I seem to have misplaced my waistline.
