I've decided to write a little blog about when Carlyle, Scar and I were all kittens. This blog post is about the first time that I climbed the curtains.
I was only a tiny little cat at the time, maybe three, four months old. Scar, Carlyle and my four sisters hadn't climbed the curtains yet. At that age, I had been the last to do everything. Eat solids, crawl, walk, wrestle. Well, I was going to prove this time that I could be the best at something!
My giants, at the time, were different giants than I have now, and had nice, silk drapes, that had no claw marks or tears. Perfect for climbing (and proving myself). My brothers and sisters had been whispering about climbing it for weeks now--but none of them had had the guts to do it. Yet.
I stood on the dresser. All of the other kittens were looking up at me from the cat-hair carpeted wood floor. My mother was nowhere to be seen. Perfect timing.
I took off--going at light speed--across the dresser, blood rushing through my veins. I ran, and I ran. My littermates gazed up at me, squeaking kitten cheers. And... I... jumped.
How can I explain the feeling of excitement, joy, fear and pure adrenaline that comes when your little kitten claws pierce the fabric of the curtains for the first time? The other kittens cheered as I took my first little 'step' up the drapes. But it was over as soon as it began, because apparently we hadn't checked thoroughly for my mother--she was behind those curtains.
The End.
~Erik
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