Just last week, I speculated about how soon they'd figure out that mantels are good places to hang out. And lo:
Toffee sniffed the roses and decided to take a few bites. A nibble would be one thing, but he was chowing down, proving he's a danger to himself, the way Snalbert was with flowers. But Snalbert never tried to jump onto the mantel. My final fresh bouquet is now safely in the refrigerator. I'm trying to focus on the money I'll be saving from now on.
It's just a matter of time before Little Harris figures out how to get up there.
I came home this afternoon to find Toffee rolling the most valuable item on the mantel, a Josh Simpson planet, on the floor by the front door. Undamaged.
The mantel is much less cluttered with glass spheres now, but that newly freed-up real estate will soon be occupied by a pair of lounging tabbies. And then poor Possum will have to exert himself, too.