To protect the innocent (you) I wasn't going to write about what happened last night, but I can't resist. (At least I had the good sense not to take photographs.) If you're not a cat person, maybe you'd better skip this. If you've ever had cats, you can handle it.
Harris jumped up on our Mission-style bookcases after supper. He likes to curl up there in the evening, as in this photo, taken some weeks ago. He's at eye level with me there, and I like to rub one of his big white feet with my nose, which he likes, too.
But there were no foot rubs last night. As I watched in horror, Harris threw up his supper — a surprising amount, so he must have stolen someone else's supper, too. It went right down the front of the bookcase, hitting the floor with a splat.
I was momentarily stunned. Oh, man, it was such a mess! A dozen panes of glass in wooden frames, with many little crevices. Some had spilled under the bookcase, some was on the back of the sofa.... It was the worst thing I'd been handed by a cat for some time. I remembered that, a couple of years ago, someone threw up behind one of our big steam radiators, which are tight up against our walls. Decades ago, in a previous life, I had a baby grand piano, and someone threw up across the strings and onto the soundboard. I hope I've seen it all now.
Harris and I looked at each other and I asked if he was okay. He has a natural little frown, or pout, so he often looks needy, put-upon, or peeved. He didn't look right, I thought as I went into the kitchen for the paper towels, cleaner, and a wastebasket. Coming back, I saw that he'd walked to the other end of the bookcase, where he likes to jump down. But then he threw up down the front of that one.
I started laughing. I helped him down so he couldn't do it again. I began cleaning as fast as I could to save the finish on the bookcases.
Harris was fine, I decided; he'd probably just eaten too fast. He must have been starving because I'd gotten home more than an hour past the cats' usual suppertime.
Much later last night, he woke me by curling up around head, purring and nibbling my hair. This was a rare nighttime visit, and he seemed to be in a great mood, so I stroked him and scrunched into a ball as he slowly pushed my head off my pillow. I couldn't help wondering if he might erupt again, but I was too tired to remove him. All's well that ends well.