--The left hand is moving...a good sign. The right hand is too worthy an adversary. Too quick to grab, too adept at avoiding claws. But the left hand seems a bit more slow. Almost stupid in the way it crawls around the floor and holds books and types things dumbly on the keyboard. It deserves to be attacked and toyed with. It needs to be taught a lesson.
From here under the ottoman it's just three feet away, dangling off the couch. Its fingers tapping merrily on the ground. The right hand is nowhere in sight. Excellent. Legs locked, eyes are focused. What? No! Where did that hand come from? Behind somewhere? It has me. I'm on the chest now. Pets. That vicous right hand is petting me and that dull left hand has me in its vile grasp. Struggle. Struggle. Pets. No! Not the chin scratching! Not the--prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Fine. That's a point for you, left hand. Prrrrrrrr. We'll meet again, though. We'll meet ag--Prrrrrrrr.
--Laziness prevailed today, but I promise more pictures tomorrow. As for a long awaited update on the cat, I've decided to dub her Yuli, Yuli being Bulgarian for July. She's doing beyond well and spends most of her time racing around the apartment, attacking any object that moves or confuses her (empty slippers standing next to each other occupied about five minutes of her time yesterday). Pens are a particular annoyance for her, although the fact that they seem to exist to be rolled and lifted up does seem to delight her a little.
I'm not planning on buying her toys at the moment, seeing as everything in the apartment is still a toy for her. All I need to do is crumple up an old receipt and toss it at her and she'll have hours of fun. Then of course, each of my appendages is also a little game system for her. My left hand, as implied earlier, is one of her favorite targets, although that doesn't mean she won't go after the elbow to try to take the whole monstrosity down at once. She grabs with her paws and puts her mouth around whatever her target is, then looks up at me to confirm a kill before I disappoint her by tapping her on the nose and telling her "No, Yuli."
Then come the guerilla strikes at night. She'll hop up on the bed at my feet and bounce off every bend in my body until she gets a paw at my mouth. Then, after I set her on the floor a couple of times, she'll give up and ball up under my armpit or any other available warm spot. When I read, she'll attack the book with all her fury until she gets tired and settles under my chin. If I'm using the computer, she'll usually just settle for the keyboard, which is plenty warm as long as the computer's running.
She makes life in the apartment more interesting certainly, but that also means things take longer. Shoe-tying, for example, is largely left up to how eager she is to attack the laces that dangle in the process. But somehow, life goes on, and things are happier now that she's around.
I just hope she phases out of this attacking thing before her claws get nasty. Only time will tell, I suppose.
Posted by Rob at July 11, 2004 04:12 PM