the vieve recently discovered some dark, cozy, under-the-bed place. for a week, she disappeared there. only to resurface occasionally, eat very loudly, make revolting cat mouth noises, and then scurry back. the path to this dark, cozy, under-the-bed place involved squeezing through the 1.5" crack between the wall and the sofa. while watching the vieve disappear into this abyss was always sad, seeing her emerge was far worse since she came head first, ears pinned back like an extreme makeover victim.
the extraction of the vieve from the box springs of a hotel bed still haunts me. i don't think we could be that lucky twice. i think next time she would just have to live there. so the other day i pushed the red stool in front of the entrance to the crevasse as a deterrent. the red stool has wheels but the vieve didn't figure that out. i felt victorious and cheered and crowned myself the queen of well-thought-out obstructions. for a brief glimmer of a moment, peace reigned. until last night.
last night, the vieve threw the dance party to end all dance parties. everyone came. old friends, new friends, long-lost friends. even a tube of moisturizer and a telephone bill. the vieve partied hard. she partied all over the place. the more i cursed her and threw things, the harder she partied. frightful quantities of cat nip were imbibed and the festivities rolled on until 5.02 a.m. when, exhausted and giddily intoxicated, the vieve came diving across the sheets to throw up on my leg. though none too happy, i held her whiskers back from her face until it was over, then put her to bed. this morning, recovered from the revelry, she discovered the stool has wheels.