Kiki loves a good string to chase as
much as any cat: to lurk, and pounce – “aha!” – and almost
get it, as I tug the end past her flickering paws: a quick frenzied
pursuit and then a pause, while she studies the terrain, pretends
nonchalance, and then – suddenly – pounce, again!
But when she tires of the game she
turns, tail twitching, and cuffs my hand. Usually, though not always,
with her claws sheathed. Just letting me know that we're done
pretending, that she knows it's my hand pulling the string, and that
she'll tear it to bloody shreds if I don't quit. Kiki is not one of
your mild-mannered cats.
Sometimes, after an illness, I have a
similar sense of impatience with appearances, impatience with having
my instincts trifled with. I don't know what hand is pulling the
string exactly so as to capture my attention: but I know it doesn't
move of itself, and I'm tired of the game.
6 comments:
(o)
Drop the string. Moby just lays down on the ribbon when he's tired of playing.
Oh, it usually happens far faster than I can drop the string. This cat's cinema has ten frames for every one of mine :-)
Yes. That's precisely what it is to recover.
Cat's are pretty clever. They easily sees that I'm the one tugging the strings. Aren't they smart? After, they just get tired of playing and moves on.
australian web hosting
I had a cat I adored who played tug of war with the string. Besides that she would fetch a ball of aluminum foil and drop it at my feet to be thrown again. Cats have wonderfully unique personalities.
Post a Comment