Living with Abys turns you into a detective, a forensic scientist, and a very light sleeper. The other night, we’d all gone to bed and the house was dark and quiet when I heard a
from the general direction of the kitchen. It sounded plastic, rather than glass, so I wasn’t really alarmed. I reckoned it was just the plastic measuring cup we keep on the counter. But the sound continued, evolving into more of a BANGing, and sounding as though it was migrating from the kitchen towards the bedroom. Muttering words beginning with the letters W, T, and F, I got up to investigate and found this:
Jacoby and Tessie went to the groomer’s this past Sunday, makes their own treats, including granulated chicken powder for sprinkling on top of food. I picked one up and tried it on their canned food Sunday and Monday nights, but they didn’t seem to be overly excited by it, so I skipped it the next couple of nights. And that’s what was being used by a hockey puck across the floors of our apartment.
I have to apologise for the lack of photo quality on these; I couldn’t find a flashlight, so I used the flashlight app on my phone…which is actually a good thing, since if I’d actually had the flashlight there wouldn’t be any photographic evidence of this at all (and this becomes important later).
The culprit was Jacoby, of course. (Who else could it possibly have been?) Doesn’t he seem proud of his accomplishment?
I picked up the shaker container and put it back in the kitchen, carefully securing it in the little box we keep all the cat food additives and supplements in. Then I went back to bed.
In the morning I’m getting ready for work when I hear my husband say, “What is all this powder all over the place!? What happened?” And when I go to look, I see what he’s talking about; the shaker was back in the entryway, having somehow been separated from its cap, which was on the living room rug. The little wooden box had been knocked off of the counter and its contents were scattered all over the kitchen floor. And granulated chicken powder was everywhere!
“Why didn’t you make sure the lid was on tight?” my husband asked me. “I DID!” I retorted. “In fact, I haven’t even opened it for days. I didn’t think they liked this powder that much, so I haven’t used it recently.”
“Then how did it get opened?” was his next question. And it’s a really good one, too. I have no freaking clue how it got opened. The lid on that bottle is a screw-top, and it’s smooth. I have no idea how anyone could open that thing without thumbs. Jake, either alone or with one or more accomplices, must have worked all night long on getting it open. Since there wasn’t any powder in the kitchen, and the lid was in the living room, it didn’t open on impact after being knocked from the counter to the floor.
I really need to set up some kind of motion-activated video camera to solve these sorts of mysteries.