Berlioz and The Wasp.

Today, I walked into the spare room and found Berlioz seated on the chair at my desk, staring at the air conditioner in the wall above.

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The chair and the air conditioner.

I asked him what he was doing, but as usual, he wouldn’t tell me. So I stood there for a second, walked a bit closer to the air conditioner, didn’t see anything unusual, so I left the room.

Not even 5 minutes later, I heard a ruckus coming from the spare room (I was just across the hall in the master bedroom). I peeked out the door and into the room, and I saw Berlioz in the center of the room, playing with something that appeared to be moving itself. I again walked a bit closer, and then jumped like three feet back when I realized it was a giant bug. I yelled “kill it, Berlioz!” but he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed it with his teeth, and sprinted out of the room and down the stairs. I followed with a book in hand, hoping that I could crush the bug myself when he let it go. He did finally let it go and at this point I was able to see exactly what it was – a wasp.

wasp-po
the bad guy.

Upon this realization, I lost it. I grabbed a water bottle and tried to spray the wasp, but also sprayed Berlioz in the face. He snatched up the wasp (who I don’t think was able to fly or move very well anymore) and darted back upstairs with it, still buzzing in his clenched teeth.

I ran back upstairs, and frantically texted my husband, while the events unfolded before my eyes.

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True story – Berlioz ate the wasp. I saw the whole thing. He saw me, he looked me dead in the eyes, and he began chewing. I heard a “crunch.” Then another “crunch.” He chewed a few more times, then began licking his chops. 

The wasp never had a chance.

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savoring his victory.

I panicked again, because I never saw a cat eat a wasp before, and I had no idea what could possibly happen. I assumed after the two “crunches” that it was sufficiently lifeless and unable to sting him, but would he get sick? Would he have trouble digesting a stinger? Who knows??

Google knows. Google always knows. Unless it stung him inside his throat (which I’m pretty sure it could not possibly have) it’s just a bit of extra protein and he should be fine.

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post-hunt nap.

Looks fine to me.

JeanineLeave a comment

What comes up, must go down…again.

I debated on whether or not to share this story, because it’s kind of gross. But cats can be kind of gross at times. This was one of those times.

Berlioz is obsessed with food, as I may have mentioned once or twice. Wednesday, on the other hand, eats slow and enjoys every bite. Of course she begs for food, like every other cat, but once the food is placed in front of her, she takes her time, savoring the meal, and used to even walk away and come back. She can’t do that anymore, as Berlioz will make a bee-line to her dish the second the she steps away. He often tries to actually even eat her meal while she is still eating it, shoving his face in front of hers. We do our best to play “food police” and stand guard in between them during meal times, grabbing Berlioz mid-run and thwarting any attempt at food thievery.

So, one morning, as usual, the #mewcrew was begging for breakfast.

begging…
…for breakfast.

I fed them as usual, giving them each their equal share of wet food and dry food. And as usual, Berlioz finished first, and before I had a chance, sprinted to Wednesday’s dish, shoved her out of the way and started eating her breakfast. I ran over and pulled him away, and put him back in front of his own dish. I stood guard until Wednesday (unusually quickly) finished her meal, and then they both left the kitchen. I continued to get ready for work, packed up, and went upstairs to kiss my husband goodbye. I came back down, and heard that sound – the sound that every cat owner dreads – the sounds of a cat about to puke. The problem was there were no cats in sight. I put down my purse and keys and began frantically searching for the source, in a vain attempt to move the almost-puker to the kitchen where the results could be more easily cleaned up. Well I followed the sounds as best as I could, but it sounded like they were coming from the TV which was weird, because it was off. I walked over, and happened to peer behind it, and there she was, but it was too late – Wednesday had puked all over the back of the entertainment center.

There was no way I was going to be able to get back there and clean this all up AND still make it to work on time, so I ran back upstairs and yelled to my husband that Wednesday just barfed behind the TV and he would have to clean it up. He groggily said, “ok” and I went back downstairs to leave.

But it gets worse.

I picked  up my bags, and went to bid the cats farewell, when I found Berlioz in the very same spot behind the entertainment center where Wednesday just was, but the pile of puke had vanished. Yes, exactly what you think happened is what happened – he ate it.

But it gets worse.

He ran out the other side of the entertainment center, and I went over to say goodbye and there was puke ON HIS FACE, and it wasn’t his own puke. And he looked at me expecting me to pet him.

I left before I puked myself, and texted my husband from the car that there was nothing he would need to clean up, as Berlioz had it all under control.

Jeanine1 Comment