The Box 7/14/2024

By: Jennifer Richardson Holt

In my living room as I am writing this, there is a large box. There isn’t to my knowledge, anything in the box. Well, when I left for work this morning there wasn’t, but I am not currently there.  I do have a cat that could very easily be making me a liar since cats do tend to have this strange obsession with boxes.  While I may soon be replacing my living room furniture, I have not chosen to do so with cardboard.  This box is in my living room for multiple reasons, and I assure you that aesthetics is certainly not one of them as the teeth marks and ripped décor on it are not really my style.

It started as I suppose most stories of a box do, with a package delivery. We had gotten something new for the house and it came in a pretty good size box.  Once I saw it, I knew that in it, there was a great deal of potential for the residents of my household.  While I did make the previous reference about cats, I will admit that initially I did in fact think of my daughter. I have seen her do some terribly creative things with a box. I have seen her fly planes and drive cars. I have seen her make them houses and traps.  But on the other end of the creativity spectrum, I have just seen her sit in them.  Just sit and chat with characters from her imagination or in its simplest use, just make it a cubby in which to nestle while watching something on her tablet.  Of course, I can’t forget her finding the usefulness of a snug little spot to hide and jump out and scare any unsuspecting, or as the case may be, warned by the other parent at the door to loudly announce your arrival so you can be appropriately startled, adults.  That’s one of her favorite uses.

Moving on to the furry children of the house who were the thought in my mind after the fruit of my loins.  Jasper, being the very often stereotypical cat, is obsessed with boxes and/or bags or any other form of container which he can maneuver himself into. I have witnessed many a birthday party where a formerly empty gift bag on the floor seemed far too dark in its contents.  Upon further investigation one could discover those black insides also had two large yellow eyes, which was most certainly not a gift that was given.  Upon placing this current box on the floor, he hurried over, gave it a brief sniff and then, almost as if spring loaded, bounced stealthily from the floor over the edge of the box and inside. A few more internal sniffs and he settled down into a girthy hurricane cloud spiral of black fur.  He then looked up at me with a look which I feel quite certain clearly stated he had claimed ownership, this was his box, and anyone who caused complications to that would face the consequences. It was a very loaded look.

It was after this point that the canine of the family became involved.  When she, the youngest, was added to the box interactions things began to devolve a bit. As I said, she is the youngest of all the siblings both furry and nonfurry and in true little sister form, her most favorite pastime, (besides chewing any and all things and/or napping) is to annoy her other siblings. Once Poppy discovered the box it already housed her fuzzy brother and since she is not as spring loaded as he is, she just yanked and poked the box to annoy him.  Then the human child saw the fuzzy sibling shenanigans and decided to join in.  By the time I look again my daughter has joined the fray and the box is on its side making it all too easy for both of the girls to get at Jasper. He was holding his ground using all his significant weight to stay planted in the corner of the box, but his tail was whipping wildly, and his eyes were squinted in disgust.  Of course, the dog then made her all too common move and went straight for a good chew of his head.  Now please understand me I don’t mean biting him, I mean she imagines that his head is a large condescending tennis ball, and she spreads her jaws as wide as she can to put the whole thing in her mouth. I swear if he wasn’t bigger than her, she’d try to carry him about in this manner.  As you might imagine, he did not in fact, cotton to this and with a frustrated yowl, leapt over Poppy to get away and the traditional all though the house hot pursuit began.

With the box vacated my daughter settled right on in for her own purposes. It was then I realized she had ever so casually garnered the box all for herself by simply encouraging them to do what they always do. And her casual plan had worked like a charm.  She was enjoying herself in a lava boat whilst the other two galloped around the house exchanging not full force but not entirely gentle blows.  I didn’t really know that a box could teach strategy but there I was witnessing it.  Now we won’t look too closely at the fact that the strategy involved turning others against each other, so they were so distracted being against each other to see what she was doing. Oh my. I hope my daughter isn’t planning on being a politician when she grows up.  How ironic that tales from the living room floor are so like current events full of spats and ridiculousness. I suppose it’s only a matter of time until we see someone chewing on someone’s head on the news.  Boxes.  Who knew?