Curious Kitty

As I wasn't able to procure (Her Highness didn't deign to provide) any good pictures in the past week, I shall resort to a completely textual post this entry instead.

Fiona finagled her way into adorning the bedroom with a gigantic monster teddy bear. In her absence, the over-sized soft toy has pride of place on the side of bed I don't sleep on. A few days back, I was giving the comforter a good airing, leaving it to settle flatly above the bed, or that's how it usually goes. This time, the bear was buried underneath.

Being a lazy bugger, I left things as they are and went about my business. A bell jingled, and I glimpsed Maxie on the bed, in search of a comfy spot for a well-deserved cat nap after a tiring cat nap in the hall. Suddenly, she froze! What was this lump underneath the comforter that was NOT her?

The not-so intrepid feline inched her way forward towards the lump, and tentatively gave it a pat only to immediately duck backwards as though afraid the lump would pat her back! Hmm...no response. Perhaps another pat? On went her paw, floating in the air slowly followed by a lightning fast pat and retreat.

I was in stitches at this point, but worried for the sheets; I hurriedly flipped the covers over and showed kitty...ta-daa! Teddy bear! She gave its foot a sniff of disgust and curled up in a sunny spot, looking for all the world like the last 2 minutes never occurred.

~~~

The next day, a plaintive mewing inundated the apartment complex on my wing. That's right, not just my unit, but the entire apartment. For the life of me I couldn't determine where it was coming from. I deduced that someone must have recently obtained a kitten, and it was suffering from separation anxiety, poor mite.

While I walked back and forth my home, I finally realised that I had a furry critter underfoot. Maxie was tailing me determinedly, trying to figure out where I had hidden this kitten (I had previously fostered 3 kittens, then 1, and helped catsit another).

I picked my little princess up to give her some tender loving reassurance, but she just growled out the window.

"WHERE IS SHE?" she demanded in a tone reminiscent of the Dark Knight to the Joker.

I hurriedly put her down, when she promptly ran to the washing room and peered out the balcony, trying in vain to figure out how I managed to float a kitten on thin air.

"I swear, I haven't got a kitten this time," I protested, to no avail.

Unable to find just where the kitten was secreted, Maxie took up position at my bedroom door, ears perked up in the alert position, picking up every subtle nuance...except the kitten's mewing went on and on and on and on (heartbreakingly so), and soon even my guard kitty gave it up and curled up next to the teddy bear for some sleep.

I guess being on the alert is just too exhausting for a kitty whose job was to be "on sleep" for 18 hours a day.

Til next week, dear readers!