Living up to his name

The crime scene

I named the cat Rascal because he's shown some crazy tendencies but also because that's the name of the mascot of the Hudson Valley Renegades.

You know, the High-A affiliate of the New York Yankees.

And for the love of San Diego Chicken I've had a picture of Rascal (the mascot) put on my Facebook wall enough times to remind me.

Or The Philly Phanatic. Or even...sigh...Gritty. 

But never "Dandy." 

Anyway, I was working in the office for a bit on Thanksgiving. Rascal (alternate title: "Squeaky") followed me, as he frequently does.

Much of my current office setup is ad-hoc. I'm typing on a keyboard on a folding tray table and there's another folding table to my right. I have a rolling cart nearby as well. One day I'd like to have my real desk back but this is the reality for now.

My laptop is a foot or two to my right.

You need all of this to understand that setup as Rascal unleashed carnage.

He stepped onto my open laptop. I reached to shimmy him away.

Cue the "Benny Hill Show" theme song ("Yakety Sax").

Rascal jumped. A lamp got knocked over. A can of seltzer slammed on the floor and begin to spill. The mouse for the very computer I'm typing on went flying. Something happened to the laptop -- I'm still not sure what.

I stayed calm.

Sure, I did...not even come close to staying calm.

I think I wove a tapestry of obscenity, that as far as we know is still hanging in space over Lake Mahopac.

A lot of...everything...came flying out in one embarrassingly moment that could have been cathartic but wasn't even close.

For a moment, the laptop looked dead. The screen had that appearance of having been impacted.

I was furious.

The computer I'm working on was given to me by Craig and Dan for work -- as in, you know, my real life. Not something I'd want to break. Call me crazy.

I was seeing red. 

Sean came running. That cat went running.

I'd soon want to run and hide.

"HAD to get a ******* cat, didn I?"

I won't give attribution on that quote. No need.

I set about assessing the damage. For the record, Rascal was fine. He tried to come back into the room a few times and I quickly rebuffed him.

I had to clean up the seltzer, which didn't get on anything electronic. I closed the lid of the laptop and opened it back up to discover it was fine. It's still as slow as ever otherwise.

The work computer was unaffected, but the right button on the mouse is sticking a bit.

The lamp was a loss. I can't get it to work.

In the end, truly the only thing damaged was my pride (and the lamp), as I was mortified.

I finished everything and left the room.

He tried to approach and start making nice

Rascal and I kept over distance overall.

He jumped up next to me at one point and even walked across me. The seemed like the first steps towards moving on.

Until this picture:

It was like he was trying to remind me that he still has a lot of kitten tendencies in him but not to give up on him.

He came to this house to keep me company and help some healing.

He also came here to be spoiled, which he is.

But he's still a little guy and there's some growing to do.

He probably learned no lessons. I'm hopeful I did.

In our own ways we're both adjusting

The legend of "Destructocat" had officially been born.

He's a Rascal though. No question about that.