You may recall a post awhile back regarding the demise of a little stuffed bear. I thought then that it couldn't get any worse. Poor, naive me.
This morning I was greeted by the delinquents when I opened my door and a pair of more cherubic souls you could not ask for. And then I turned on the bathroom light and saw the carnage. A thorough examination of the premises has revealed the following.
In the early hours of Saturday morning, a dalmatian Beanie Baby was savagely attacked in the family room. His life blood of white plastic discs, each about the size of a small lentil, had been spilled across the family room floor. There was also a considerable amount of tissue, in this case polyfiberfil, strewn about. The trail of blood and tissue continued up the stair case and into the bathroom, where he was left cold and lifeless in the bathtub as his life force drained away from him.
You would be surprised how many of those little plastic discs there are in one average Beanie Baby. I was tempted to call one of those crime clean up companies to deal with the hideous aftermath. Thank goodness for my two Oreck vacuums. It was quite a job to remove the evidence.
My two little murderers are strolling around, looking quite pleased with themselves for having created such an entertaining activity for their mommy at 5:30 in the morning.
Anybody know of a good reform school for cats?