Legalize catnip..! Oh, wait, wrong quasinarcotic leafy substance.
The cats helped me celebrate my final week at my old job by being extra friendly,
not barfing, slowing down on the midnight crazies, and staying close by. (Fog took to sitting on the computer desk, as close to the mouse as possible. I think she was either trying to block me from working on the computer, or was trying to hint that I wasn’t petting her enough.)
In return, I gave them catnip one evening. They hadn’t had any in a while (I hadn’t been seasoning the toys properly), so they were thrilled — and squirrellier than usual. They’re happiest if they each have their own stash. Ursa and Monkey like it raw, 
while Fog prefers hers packed in a refillable toy (though a scent-saturated toy is an acceptable substitute.) Monkey rolled around in her pile, flipping over and 
over while the other two ate theirs, occasionally looking at M. as if to ask, “Why o why are you wasting perfectly good catnip? Did you read Superfudge?. (I guess Monkey had her fill of foliage last weekend when they all were out on the patio.)
Related entry: Letting the cats out
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