One day a month or two ago, I thought to myself, "This planter box with plants in it - a Silver Queen and African Violet (started from a leaf) looks pretty good. I think it would look real nice in the livingroom on my end table - kind of accent the place a little."
So, that day I situated it "just so" on the end table and had an admiration day, thinking myself quite artsy in my attempt at home decoration (just a small figment of my imagination I know, but satisfying anyhow).
For some reason, (was it hopefulness or naitivity), I chose to think the box might be "safe" from "you know who". Why would she bother with it?
Perhaps it was the lingering memories of "you know who", entranced by another innocent plant happily contained in a larger pot on the floor. Her entrancement led to busy little paws furiously spewing soil every which way, not deterred much by a hollering mistress, rags being flung at her or any other attempt to persuade her to mind other business. For information sake, the plant has survived. Every now and again she will mosey over to it and try to rid it of more soil.
Back to the planter box -
I went to bed that night and awoke refreshed: another day, another...what's this?
One third of the livingroom, including the couches and rug splayed with dirt, and the end table with a nice heap of the black stuff on top of it. My little African Violet somehow disappeared and the Silver Queen, limp. "You know who" had struck.
Me: "Bad Cat".
She: Ah-h-h-h! What fun!
Did I get it cleaned up? Yes.
Did she learn a lesson? Yes - another way to entertain herself.
Cost: one plant and the health of another.
More on another post.
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