The first time it happened, I thought it was an accident.

Fool me once...strike one. Fool me twice... ... ...strike three.
~Michael Scott

As it turns out, the cat was pulling my apples onto the floor on purpose. I hate bruised apples. They look like poop. Who wants to eat poop? Not me, you can be sure of that. They're in the fridge now; you can rest assured. And by they, I mean the cats. Kidding. For now.

By the way, what the heck?!? I thought that when organisms had major surgery (i.e.., each of our cats had ALL her reproductive organs were removed THIS MORNING), they were supposed to take time to recover, you know, be docile: our mutants came home completely intoxicated with some sort of a stimulant. When the doctor said that they "bounced back" surprisingly quickly, I didn't take him to literally mean that they were doing actual bouncing. Turns out, I misunderstood. Earlier, they took a sealed, foil bag of cat treats from the counter, smuggled it downstairs, and were trying to chew it open when I happened upon their little cabal. Right now they're chewing on my shoes, playing with the garbage in the bathroom, and I'm pretty sure I just heard glass tinkle from the other room. True story.

Send help.

P.S. On a more interesting note, did you know that a cat's skin is colored with the same pattern as its fur? When the vet spayed the cats, he shaved a portion of their abdomens, and, as it turns out, our striped cat also has striped skin (the pattern is much less remarkable with the other two, but the similarity is still definitely there).

And, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get them out of the trash.