Quincy’s curiosity got the best of him yesterday, and he had a little mishap.
Here’s how it all went down (literally)
We have a two story house. The stairs have a banister around them, like most staircases. It is a regular half wall, with wide top rails. The cats like to sit on the banister and watch us humans; it is one of their favorite cat perches.
So I didn’t think much of it as I stood by the banister, sharpening a bunch of pencils. (Inexplicably, my husband permanently attached a pencil sharpener on the corner of the banister.) Quincy, unable to resist this oh-so-interesting activity I was doing, had to come over and check it out. Almost immediately he was bored with the situation, and decided that he would leap across my corner of the banister to more interesting pursuits on the other side.
w-h-o-o-p-s! In a flash it happened. I don’t even think he made contact with the other part of the rail. Just PLOP! and there he sat at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me, stunned. An empty plastic recipe box clattered down with him and broke in two. I raced down to him, with Barnie on my heels. The dogs were napping, and didn’t immediately think this was anything other than the usual Quincy antics.
I scooped him up, and for once he let me cuddle him. No blood. That’s good. I set him down, and he just stood there. Too scared to move? But then he did. He was fine, other than the bruised ego.
I brought him up to the other pets, the dogs now awake and curious about all of the commotion. I turned my back for a second, and saw this. Sweet Barnie, who is sometimes tormented by Quincy, was comforting his little buddy.
Quincy, true to form, lapped it up.
Quincy finally notices that I am taking photos.