I’m thinking of installing nanny-cams to catch the stuff I don’t sneak up on

I was sitting in the living room late last night watching the series finale of  The Closer and feeling all emotional and stuff. My cursor on my laptop blinked, patiently. I had paused my show at least twice to put The Bandit back to bed. It was 10:45 – much too late for the boy to be wandering around the house in his Lego Star Wars underpants. Nevertheless, he was gripped by some version of seven-year old insomnia and the unswerving desire to play forbidden video games in his bed. What happened to the good old days when kids read comic books under the covers with a flashlight? Don’t worry, I catch him doing that all the time, too.

This time I heard odd noises in the kitchen, splashing, which, admittedly, seemed weird. I rolled my eyes and wondered what the hell he was doing in there now, being so loud. Usually the boy is quite stealthy. I paused the show – again – and snuck on tiptoes across the livingroom. I pressed my back against the wall like a cop in some dramatic television show. Not unlike The Closer which I just wanted to watch the finale of in peace. I craned my neck around the corner and did not see the boy.

The tableau laid out in front of me was odd, to say the least.

Jojo Kitten had all four feet in the large bowl of dog/cat water and was, for lack of a better description, dancing in it. Leaping and stomping, the stupid cat splashed water out of the bowl in a two foot radius. The rug under the bowl was soaked, the kitten dripped from head to toe.

Winnie the Wonder Mutt stood just to the side, watching with her head tilted like the RCA dog. She didn’t bark or even move, just stood there staring at the kitten in what appeared to be doggy wonder.

I swear Roscoe shook his head as if to say, “You’re on your own, dude” and wandered away.

All while I watched from around the corner.

Jojo must have decided that he’d accomplished his task and bounced out of the water and after Roscoe.

Just as the kitten disappeared around the corner to the office, Geddy, our old tom, wandered into the kitchen from the other direction, probably in hopes of having a nice sip of clean, uncontaminated water. He paid me absolutely no mind when he passed me, which is quite typical unless he wants you to hoist him up to his food or scratch behind his ears. Or if your reading the newspaper then he feels compelled to sit on it.

Winnie had approached the mostly empty bowl to inspect the destruction, thus she was standing there red-pawed as the case may be, when Geddy came around the corner. I watched with amusement as Geddy unwittingly put his giant, orange foot right in an enormous puddle of water. Honest to Zeus, the horror on his face when he snatched his foot back and stared at it’s now dampened state was priceless.

Then he glared at Winnie. He glared at her with such vehemence, for a moment I was a little concerned for her. “What the f**k is this?” was written all over his expression.

Winnie backed up, pleading her case. I heard the silent communication. She very clearly told Geddy it was the little orange bastard, and it’s only because Jojo drives Geddy completely insane that Winnie managed to get out alive.

I don’t know if Jojo’s plan all along had been to frame Winnie for this crime, or if it was just a happy accident, but I think that little kitten is a mastermind of epic proportions.

Do you have one pet that gets the others in trouble? Do you honestly think they do it on purpose? We totally do, by the way. Our pets are just as conniving as our children. This time only, we’re giving a free pass on tattleing. Come on, dish.