Stirring the Pot

In my dreams, I imagine a laid back, quiet Sunday morning with all the cats and dogs behaving well, no muss, no fuss.

In reality, everything is quiet except for the kitten who is racing around from room to room, trilling as she goes, looking to stir up trouble.

She's no longer a kitten, of course, but she's undersized and the smallest of the bunch with, apparently, the most to prove.  While the others are sedate and content to sleep, eat and sleep some more, she is a mini whirlwind of activity, a pot-stirrer on the prowl.  I watch as the tabby comes cautiously into the kitchen, moving slowly and looking for any sign of an ambush.  The kitten, perched on the edge of the countertop,
silently launches herself but the tabby senses danger and is off and running just as the kitten hits the floor. 
The attack fails.  Next I watch her slink and creep her way toward the long haired black cat curled up and sleeping at the end of the couch.  Just as she hunches down and prepares to pounce, he opens his eyes and hisses a warning.  The second attack fails.  The tuxedo cat then strolls lazily into the kitchen, stretches her full length and falls down on her back, a habit she's had since her own kitten days.  She rolls around, twisting and turning her body like a pretzel and pretending not to see the kitten covertly approaching.   There's a trill and a full fledged answering meow and the game is on in a tangle of black and white and gray.  The tuxedo cat breaks free first and darts out of the room with the kitten in hot pursuit but in a few seconds the kitten has reversed her course and comes flying past me with the tuxedo cat close on her heels.  When the dogs decide to join in the chase - they separate the cats and then double team the kitten in an enthusiastic game of tug of war - the whole thing begins to feel like an old vaudeville routine.

I break up the unlikely menage a trois and shoo the kitten away before they can snatch her again.  She gives me a resentful look - I think she actually likes these attempted threesomes -  and then strolls indifferently off.

The house settles down and I go back to my dreams.

When I wake again, the small brown dog is asleep on a pillow above my head.  The little dachshund and the kitten are are curled up together at my side.  One black cat is asleep in the cat bed, the other is snoozing at my feet.  The tabby is sleeping amid all the baskets atop the refrigerator and the tuxedo cat is curled up in the little dachshund's kennel.  

You can't mold reality to suit you.  But sometimes you can bend it just a little.