When the cat's away, the mice will...sit up behind the tv in a plastic bag.

Just finished reading Patrick O'leary's book, The Gift. It's the most satisfying read I've had in a while. I'd put it into the same category as Robin Hobb's Farseer trilogy etc. That goes to show there's nothing like a well crafted, intelligent fantasy novel. O'Leary's book is perhaps more "traditional" in the sense that it contains dragons and wizards etc, but he manages to make them unlike anything you've read before. All really good fantasies have elements of the real in them, and this is no exception: the significance of Names, how storytelling is essential to our humanity, etc.

One more point in the book's favor is that fact that unlike the woeful majority of fantasy literature, it actually has interesting and beautiful cover art. Not the melodramatic schlock that (God knows why) publishers decide to slap on even the best (i.e. poor Robin Hobb) fantasy books.

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The other day I was at the pet store and on my way through the checkout line, I decided on a whim to buy one of those small toy mice made from real rabbit fur for our cat, Boo. Once I got home, I didn't actually remember it was in the bag until I caught him sniffing and pawing where I'd left it on the kitchen floor. As soon as I gave held it out to him he got hunter-eyes (you know--when something enticing is twitching and suddenly your cat's pupils are like dinner plates), snatched the mouse and ran off, joyfully tossing it and worrying it. And this went on. ALL DAY. The next morning I was slightly disgusted to find the ragged husk of what was left of the "mouse" on my bathroom floor. All there was was a small patch of mostly bald rabbit skin with many, many holes in it. As I peered at it, Boo flounced through and whisked it away. Ew. I decided that since the toy had been such a success, I ought to get him another. I found a MEGA pack of them at Meijer for a fraction of what I paid at the cat store, so brought it home, gave Boo one mouse from the package, and carefully wrapped the bulk of them back up and set them up behind the tv.

Let's spring ahead a couple days, shall we? But first let me say this: we are unusually blessed with good cats. They excrete ONLY in their litter box, they scratch only occasionally on our carpet-never the sofas- and they NEVER climb up where they shouldn't be and cause mass destruction by knocking things off bookshelves and mantles and kitchen counters. Our cats are generally the models of restraint (except when it comes to wet food). This is why I was shocked (and highly amused) to reach the bottom of our stairs one morning and find our living room awash in a sea of half-gnawed, bedraggled, colorful mice, with Boo lying, exhausted and slightly guilty looking, on the couch. He had carefully jumped from the couch to a stack of DVDs on top of the shelf, to the top of the speaker (also covered in stuff) to the top of the tv, and without disturbing the plant, had pilfered the bag of mice, gnawed it open, and had a wild party. All this without disturbing any of the precarious piles of stuff that cover that area. Single minded, determined, and only a LITTLE naughty cat.