It was nearly one o’clock in the morning when a thump and a bang downstairs jarred me from my slumber.
“Those damn cats!” I thought. Our cats frequently wake us with their raucous behavior. I looked around and noticed Pip and Sawyer were upstairs, so it had to be Libby. And I was certain I knew what she was doing.
At dawn, I woke and my suspicions were confirmed.
My son has these farm animal toys his grandma got for him. My cat thinks they are her kittens, or prey, or whatever. Every night she hunts all over the house for these toys and brings them upstairs one-by-one, mewing the entire time before plopping them in a pile on the floor right bedside my bed.
I’ve tried hiding them from her because of all the noise she makes with them. I’ve put them in the barn and buried the barn in a basket under a pile of heavy toys. She still got them! Last night, I had put them in my son’s pack n’ play thinking she wouldn’t try to get in there because she hates jumping into it. That obviously didn’t work. All the banging was from her jumping on the high chair tray that is next to the pack n’ play, jumping into the pack n’ play, and back to the high chair. She must have done this four times because this morning I found all four animals in a nice pile by my bed!