If there was ever an apocalypse of killer paper, cats would definitely be heroes of mankind.
Recently my husband and I were doing some house projects that had us working mostly in the garage and master closet. I wanted to spend the weekend relaxing and surfing the Internet with thoughts of work merrily an abstract concept, but for him, he had projects in mind.
He wanted to install more cameras and run wires.
So there we were: him up in the attic, located in our garage, and me going in and out of the house, bringing him stuff and fishing wires through a hole in the closet. If you can imagine a can of worms opened and spilling out, but frozen mid-spill—that’s how our closet hole looked. Granted, now it’s been cleaned up a lot and has a fancy box mounted above it for the wires to run to, but he promises me someday it will be closed off and won’t look like our house has a worm infection.
But I promised you cats.
I bought a six pack of paper towels and had them stashed on top of a bin in the living room. They were there mostly for convenience, so I could just grab a roll quickly when needed or take a small piece when eating in the living room. And they were fine for about a month.
Now, I don’t know how it happened, or when he saw them, but somehow, Socks noticed the pack over there. And he waited for the opportune moment.
My husband came down from the attic and went to work in the closet connecting the wires. I followed him in, handing over tools, helping where I could, and shooting the breeze. Everything seemed right as rain, no issues. It took him about an hour to get everything hooked up the way he wanted (with the worms still coming out of the wall, though less of a mess now), and we came out into the living room feeling accomplished.
That’s when we saw the disaster area.
Socks had ripped open the paper towel bag, drug out one roll, and shredded it across the floor. His back legs were pumping against it as hard as they could and his eyes were big and round, high on adrenaline and mischief. He looked at us, gave no indication he did wrong, then went right back to playing with his new toy.
Of course I snapped a picture before taking it away. Then I spent the rest of the hour cleaning up bits of paper towel on the floor before calling it a day.
Yes if there ever is an invasion of paper towels I will call upon Socks to save us. Elsa will be the reserve for the toilet paper war.
Meow.
