Jackson will be the death of me. He is our “stunt” kittie. In his mind, high = happiness, and we’re not talking the illegal type of high!
His first feat as a kitten was to leap from floor to counter to fridge to cabinet top. He soon graduated. First tentatively and now at a run, across the curtain tops to the adjoining set of cabinets. Soon Rascal copied. Crazy stunt cats!
We hired Barbara to paint our living room. The room with 20+ foot high cathedral ceilings. On day one, she set up her steel ladder, completed a bit of edging and set out for lunch. I work from home in an office right off the living room. What seemed to be minutes after Barbara left, I heard a loud “clank, clank, clank” – the sound of someone climbing the ladder. Thinking she had returned from a quick lunch break, I rose to great her. I entered the room to Jackson, on the top rung, hanging by his little front legs; back legs swinging wildly in mid-air. Pushing aside my fear of heights, I rapidly ascended the ladder to save him. Crazy stunt cat!
We decided to add a bathroom in our basement. My husband, “the woodworker”, was designing the mahogany ceiling himself. One afternoon, I headed down to monitor the progress. Upon approach, I heard Rascal’s mighty “help me” meow, echoing from the bathroom. John left a step-ladder a bit to close to the sauna. Rascal was now stuck on it’s roof (an easy save). Jackson however had climbed from ladder to sauna and into the ceiling with the pipes and such. He was thoroughly enjoying his adventure, having no desire to be “saved”. We lured him out with his only love – food. Crazy stunt cat!
On warm summer evenings, Jackson is enthralled by the moths, who, attracted by the inside lighting are fluttering near the window and door screens. Thinking of them as yummy treats to be caught, Jackson crawls to the top of the screen and just hangs there – he’s not picky, either door or window screen is fine for this hunt. Therefore, most of our flimsy window screens are now secured by an attractive band of silver duck tape. Those without duck tape must remain closed. Crazy stunt cat!
His newest trick? Jumping to the top of the 1 inch wide railing at the top of the stairs, 20 feet above ground to enjoy an unobstructed view of the living room. The first time I witnessed this exploit, I didn’t want to run to the top of the stairs to grab him; I feared he would become frightened , lose his balance and fall to his death (or a few broken legs).
I yelled for John. He stood below, open arms, ready to catch his baby kittie, should he fall. I tentatively ascend the steps, speaking to Jackson calmly, until I reached a point where I could nab him. I scolded, “Never do that again! You scared mommy”. Our adventerous cat is not a good listener. Once or twice a week he repeats the act. When Jackson performs this feat, Rascal stands just below, gazing upward, his paws on the railing, meowing, “Brother help me get up there too!” Luckily Rascal is less adventurous. We believe Jackson has 9 lives; crazy stunt cat!
We have a unenclosed deck off of the second floor living room. The cats can visit the deck only on leash. The Scheupps thought this a bit overprotective. “Our cats go out on the deck and lounge in the sun; they won’t jump”, said Lynda. “Don’t worry about them so much, they’re not stupid!”. I tried a few “without leash” trials. I would sit on the deck with my morning vanilla chocolate chip flavored coffee from Mary Lou’s while the boys explored, enjoying the varying view of the birds and chipmunks. Three weeks passed without incident. All was good. I was about ready to give them free reign. Lynda was right.
One morning John opened the slider door and let them out on the deck unsupervised. I rose from my position of comfort on the couch to keep an eye on them. “Their fine”, he stated exasperatedly. “Let them be. Sit down”. As I approached the exit, I watch in horror as little Jackson slipped off the deck backwards. Like a movie in slow motion his little paws fluttered helplessly as he attempted to grab hold of the deck. I screamed, then I yelled “he fell!!!” and took off running to the basement. Poor Rascal bolted into hiding, under the couch. Either my scream scared the wits out of him or he was fearful that he was fated to follow his brother in a backwards dive off the edge.
I reached the backyard and found a stunned little black cat, frozen in a crouched position on the grass. I scooped him into my arms, held him close and brought him inside, my heart pounding. John grabbed him, checked for broken legs and announced he was fine. I coaxed Rascal out from under the couch and gently assured him that everything was fine. Sigh of relief. Crazy stunt cats (who are no longer allowed on the porch)!
My Devon Rex Kittens 