Kind Mother Nature planted some catnip seedlings for me in the backyard right in the pea gravel. Apparently, they were this year’s offspring from the parents that had been growing in Mom’s large, outdoor pot last year. But because I am not allowed to go outside and roam, for reasons I still don’t fully understand or agree with, Mom potted up the nip and brought it inside for me to munch on. She seems to keep forgetting, though, that I don’t really care for the fresh green kind; I like my nip when it’s all dried up and comes in a plastic bag (I call them plasties) or as herb dressing on my toys. I didn’t say anything when Mom presented me with the gift, ‘cause I’m a nice kitty and I’m not one to complain.
After a few days, the niplings were starting to look a little droopy even with drinks from the bathroom fountain. I pawed it out to Mom. She decided that they were probably not getting enough “natural light”, so she relocated the pot to the bedroom window where it sat for a few hours a day. The leafies perked right up, they did, and seemed happier. But the saucer was protruding over the ledge; the nips were living on the edge! Their fate was about to be tested. A couple of days later…
Mom looked at me and let out a big sigh. I think I heard her mumble, “I had a feeling that would happen.” All I did was try to access my usual spot, to view my side yard (I patrol for zoms from the windows, you see). I jumped up on my nightstand as I always do and placed a paw out to climb onto the windowsill… The pot was IN THE WAY!
Mom and I looked down at the terra cotta shards and pile of Black Gold on the floor behind the nighstand. I shrugged my shoulders at Mom. That’s what happens when nip comes to crash. And I didn’t even get a party out of it. I think I heard the niplings’ plea for help. I reached out my paw and lightly placed it on Mom’s arm to ease her distress. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Mom,” I stared at her and gave her a silent mew. “For it’s what you people say, ‘To error is human.’” Now if you were a kitty cat, like me, you would not have made the poor judgement call of setting that pot in my direct route to begin with, I thought to myself, shaking my head. I turned and paw pointed down the hall. “Hoover is in the closet and he will help you clean up the mess. May this be a lesson to you,” I mewed aloud.
I did a reconnaissance of the crash victims. It’s not so bad, Mom. The niplings, er… the nipling… doesn’t look “too worse for the wear.” It’s feet are still covered in soil. It is still in some semblance of the pot. And now it has more room to grow; the other two niplings surely would’ve crowded it out had they survived. Yes, there’s a chip on the saucer. I see it. Well, there was a chip on the saucer previously, so now there’s a matching pair!
Because I’m a nice kitty, I repaired the nip pot for you, Mom. I used that “duck” tape that Dad says is good for fixing everything and anything. Though it’s funny (scratching my head), I don’t hear any quacking sounds or see any feathers or webbed feet. Don’t worry about the small hole on the side of the pot. It will help with drainage. I love you Mom and I forgive your misdoings. Now, tell me when will that nipling turn into the dried nom nom stuff?!
Has there ever been a nip crash at your house? I would love for you to comment. If you liked reading this post, please also see “Feeling Groovy with Kitty Kick Stix.” And don’t forget to enter my All Hallows Eve TRICKSTER OR TREATER Contest before October 25. Mew Mew!