Hunting cat

After our attempt at transforming my cat into a kungfu kitty, things started to wind down around the apartment. Maxie started, for some unknown reason, to be a little bit more clingy. That is to say, she started hanging out beside me while I'm on the computer instead of sleeping in the living room. I think she's taking her guard duties a little seriously. Definitely NO cuddles still, cat on duty here, excuse me!

I've decided, in the absence of martial arts training sessions, that the kitty wand toy..er..training tool, will be kept somewhere safe, where she wouldn't have unsupervised access to. We wouldn't want Maxie to start developing any world domination ambitions now, do we?

Initially, the wand was kept on my computer desk behind my laptop. Maxie has never shown any inclination to visit my computer table...until now. One night, she jumped up and nosed around until she found her wand hidden underneath the rubble and made off with it. It was a tense stand-off between the two of us until she finally agreed to the trade of tuna for wand. *phew*

So, the weapon of mass blackmailstruction needs to be stored somewhere safe!

My "secret" hiding place

I wanted to encourage her on the table and thus folded up her towel that was meant to be her bed but she insists on using the darned recycle bag...sorry, got carried away there. So I folded her towel behind my laptop where the wand used to be, to tempt her to sleep there while I'm on the comp, presumably to foster some bonding time...

 

I don't know what you're up to, human, but that soft material you have there is stupid!

As she sat on my desk, she started making some rumblings.

"Sla-...er...daddy! I want my toy! I wish to practice my boxing skills now, please?" she deman..., I mean requested, somewhat imperiously.

"Nuh-uh, Maxie, you've had your fun earlier. Daddy wants to rest now. Daddy's had a hard day," I replied, while rubbing her on the cheek.

"I want my wand NOW!!! I know you have it! You've hidden it!" This time, the demand was unmistakable. Loud MROWLS over and over. Even the densest of non-cats could interpret that!

"No, little one. No more playing. It'll be bed time soon, and you know how you get if we have games before bed!" I stood my ground. (A quick detour, if my cat gets over-stimulated right before bed, she will dream that my toe and/or foot = scratching pad and will bite and scratch it industriously while sound asleep!)

Maxie wouldn't stand for it. She started rummaging around the desk, digging under the towel I set aside for her and finding nothing. Meowing constantly. No doubt using some choice words on yours truly!

Unable to help myself, I remarked to her, "I've locked it away. You won't find it, baby. Just give it a rest. I'll play with you tomorrow."

Maxie jerked her head up at my snide tone and shot me a dirty look reminiscent of this:

She continued her quest and started hanging her head over the side of the table, sniffing at the drawer furiously. Unfortunately, before I got a pic, she jumped off.

I know you have it here, you scoundrel!

Much to my consternation and amazement, she did manage to find it, and started pawing at the drawer. I figured that with the drawer closed, it was safe enough. I laughed at her and went outside to do something and returned to find this happening on my desk:

Just a little bit more...and I'll get it!

Giving in to another night of unrest, I opened the drawer and gave it to her before she converted into "claws of destruction" mode on my table. *sigh*

Kitty decided that the towel was good enough for warm up exercises with her toy

Wham! Wham wham wham!

"Meowhahahahaha! You cannot resist my kitty of doom charm! Now bat me with that wand so I can show you how awesome I am!" cried my catketeer.
 

Claw of doom

*pounce*

As soon as her highness was satisfied, I sneakily threw the wand out the bedroom door into the hall and closed the door in her face. :X

"Wait, what are you doing? HOW DARE YOU!??" exclaimed the cat.

I turned a deaf ear to her yowling, and it was torture. She pawed and scratched at the door and complained. Boy, did she complain!  I brushed my teeth and washed my face to the accompaniment of the kitty yowpera..

Suddenly, there was silence. Could she have...? Naw, it couldn't be. It's too much even for her, right? I mean, isn't it ridiculous to even think that she might've opened my bedroom door to get her toy back?

Full of trepidation, I peered out of my bathroom door. The bedroom door remained closed. Phew! But where was kitty?

Awww....

 Goodnight, folks!

Wing Chun Kitty

 This past week, I decided to go on an Ip Man movie marathon. For those of you not in the know, Ip Man was the "sifu" of the great martial artist, Bruce Lee, and a grandmaster of the Chinese Kungfu called Wing chun or "Forever Spring (young)"

My kitty was going through a lazy period and deigned to grace me with her company on the couch whilst I indulged myself in a bit of on-screen fighting. Initially, she just laid on the couch dozing, but eventually she opened first one eye, then two, and perked up as the action got more and more intense. Looks like I just made her into a fan.

First she was "Meh!", then she was like "Ooh!"

 I don't know about you, dear readers, but after watching certain action-packed films, I have the urge to emulate the action on-screen. Usually this urge is easily repressed, unless I watched any of the Fast & Furious franchise, but that's another matter altogether. *Grin*

This time, however, I was inspired to project that desire of emulation onto my little princess. Since she's been showing signs of developing into a guard kitty, it was only LOGICAL to provide her with some martial arts training, no? And so chaos ensued...

"Maxie! Come here, girl. Daddy's got a new game for you!" I sang to my cat as she was about to settle into some deep feline introspection (I call it sleep, but she insists otherwise). 

An eye opened.

"C'mere, you! Look what daddy's got for you," I cajoled while holding up her favourite used earphones. 

The other eye emerged.

I dangled the earphones further and watched as her head came up, and before you knew it, we had a full fledged training programme happening!

Watch my stance, villain!

Hai-yak!

Success! But this is only the first step. How do I get her to practice and train herself while I'm not home? After all, SOMEBODY's gotta guard the cat food! ;-)

So once again, I turned to Bruce Lee for inspiration:

 

I had to find a kitty equivalent...but how?

"Daddy! I know! I know!" came the mrowl from my now-enthusiastic cat. I eyed her quizzically.

"Gimme my wand, I'll show you!" she entreated me. Deciding to indulge her, I gave her the kitty wand toy that she loved (usually resulting in many kitty "love scratches" on my hands...) but do not get access to too often as it made her act like she was high on something...

Plonk!

  

Hoo-yak!

  

Die, now!

 It was a very proud moment for me, I had tears in my eyes (okay, it might've been due to the holes she left in my hands...but yeah whatever) watching her practicing her new-found skills. Finally, I decided to test her to see if she's ready for the "real" thing.

The resulting pictures were a little blurry due to the indescribable speed that my kitty has progressed into, almost Bruce Lee-esque:

Warming up...

Stretch....

Hua hua hua!!!

So, finally proving to me that she was able to take care of things, I was able to rest well at night.

"Well done, Maxie! You are now officially a guard kitty!" I proclaimed proudly.

Her reaction?
 

My guard kitty with the last of her food

 "Whatever, daddy. I'm just going to curl up with my last can of cat food and ignore you for the rest of the day now."

Yeap, that's my little girl alright...

Evolution of a guard kitty

As previously posted, I've noticed the birth of Maxie playing at guard cat after the Joshua-incident. I hadn't imagined the extent she'd go in playing that role though...until the events that inspired this post.

My cat, who likes to be contrary, is very very very fussy when it comes to having canned food. Unlike most other cats (and dogs), she has no qualms quaffing down any brand of kibble whatsoever. However, give her any but ABC brand of canned cat food (I refuse to do product placement in my blog), and she will refuse to eat it. The thing is, it's not even a so-called premium brand! It's some brand that is usually sold at discounted prices, but only available at two pet stores (so far anyway).

Right, without being too boring, usually when I buy Maxie's canned food, I tend to get a month's supply to avoid having to make repeated out-of-they-way trips to satisfy my princess's tuna craving. Then I will arrange the cans on the table and take one to pop open for her periodically (ie: when she demands tuna. Believe me, there is NO mistaking her meows when she wants tuna). However, this last time, I got a little lazy and sloppy, so I left the plastic bag of canned food on the floor in the living room.

Maxie has a tendency to cuddle up on or inside a canvas bag, usually the canvas bag is anywhere in the living room, depending on what she's been doing with it...so I was playing on the computer and heard some rustling and looked out from my bedroom to the living room. Here's what I saw:

She caught me with the camera

 

This food is mine!

 

Feeling amused, I left her be and the next day I moved the bag away to see what she'd do. Somehow she got a can of tuna out of the plastic bag and on top of it. I swear to you she did this on her own!

Damn you, human! Bring me my bed!!!

 And on day 3 I found her like this (in case anybody is wondering, the black stringie thing is an old pair of earphones of mine that she likes to play with), she'd dragged the bag from the couch where I stashed it the day before:

If I sleep with my head on the cans, the human can't steal it

Ah food, sweet food!

I've left the cans where they were for a week now, seeing as it made her look cute and protective. I caught her the other day (sadly, I wasn't in time for a photo-op) nuzzling her head inside the plastic bag and trying to pick at a can. *LOL*

"Hmmm, hmmm, so many cans, so many flavors. Which shall I make my slave open today?" I could almost see the thought bubble coalescing above her head.

I walked over, and bent down to stroke her. "Baby, what are you doing? You want some tuna, huh?"

An eye peeked out from the plastic bag... *ruts around with face in the bag until a can rolls out*

With such an obvious hint, I knew what she wanted. Seeking to tease her, I took another can from the plastic bag and walked towards the kitchen. Not 3 steps later a furry pair of paws pounced upon my foot.

"Mrowwwwlll!!!!!" she exclaimed.

I grinned at her, put the can back into the bag, selected yet another one and repeated the procedure. This time, the paws had claws extended.

Giving in (hey my leg was in peril!), I took the can she rolled out of the bag and walked towards the kitchen. This time, Her Highness graced me with ankle rubs and purrs as I opened the can on the countertop.

 I'm not sure what made her and how she chose that particular can, but after I opened it, she proceeded to chow down with gusto. That's one happy kitty, and one unscathed human. Phew!

Return of the wasp

Been a quiet weekend, as I spent most of my day in bed or in front of the computer while I recover from my ill-advised stint at the shelter on Saturday. There I was, minding my own business when I heard a loud cat-ish chittering from the living room.

“Daddy, daddy! Hurry! It’s back, it’s BAAAAACCCCKKK!!!” came the demanding mrowl.

Bemused, I staggered into the living room in time to see….the return of the (same?) wasp! Once again intent on mastering some heretofore undreamt of levels of head-banging against windows…

“Daddy, watch me kill it this time! I promise I’ll give you what’s left over when I’m done with it,” cried the cat.

 

Waspinator!

Aghast, I went to my fridge and took out some anchovies that were her favourite treat and put some on the kitchen floor. “Maxie, come here! Look what daddy’s got for you. Come here, sweetie!”

Ignoring me, Maxie was already starting to try to climb the window grill in an effort to catch the dancing wasp. Once again, I hobbled out to the living room and this time I grabbed her bodily and stalked towards the kitchen. Her yowls of protest could surely be heard on the ground floor, 16 storeys below…

I placed her in front of the anchovies, to which her protestations abruptly ceased as she chowed down on the unexpected treat. Two bites in though, she remembered what she was up to and ran back to the window. Too tired and sore to run after her, I issued a sharp command, “No!” in the tone of voice that she knew meant trouble was coming if she didn’t stop immediately what she was doing right then.

 

Anchovies!

Frantic, Maxie released the window grill (sans wasp, thankfully) and ran helter-skelter into the bedroom which was her default lair when anything bad happens…halfway in she careened to a halt and did the patented “Flintstones running in place before mobility” movement while she switched directions and ran back out to the kitchen, vacuumed the remaining anchovies up  at top speed, and scrambled back into the bedroom whereupon she jumped onto the bed and started grooming her face meticulously in an attempt to preserve any shred of dignity her frantic escape-cum-greedy gobbler performance might’ve spared her.

I quietly closed the door, and got rid of the wasp before returning to the bedroom to catch her staring mournfully out the window.

“Daddy, it’s gone :( I hate you.”

I gave her a pat and returned to my reading, situation was back to normal: wasp-free, cat ignoring human and human pretending not to care.

Ah well.

 

Sad kitty watching wasp fly away