Thursday, 14 January 2016

A Little Devil Lives In Our Midst.

And a devilishly clever one too!

Appropriately enough, the other day our little princess outed herself as a little imp and left her mark...Oh, all I did was to forget to close the flap of my laptop when I stepped out of the room for a few minutes. Sometimes a few moments is all she needs...

Coming back into the room, I was greeted with a silence that is not very normal with teenage cats. Far from it. Her fur turned into a camouflage because it took me a while to register where she was. Miss Maus had chosen the comfortable perch atop my laptop keyboard.

Naturally I screamed like a banshee for her to get off and before she did, she threw me a glance that meant:

' Why Mum, I'm not doing anything and you also spend your time on the computer.'
On her descend ( unaided ) to the floor, I got a nice message from her on the screen. She had somehow managed to type a long line of 6's....a clue perchance?

Peeps, be aware of your computers as they are like catnip to your darlings.

As I am writing this little ditty, she is lying docilely on my lap, sleeping with one eye open in order to grab her chance should I get up! Just like any other teenager, she is trying to know her boundaries and I put my foot down ( don't panic, only verbally ) when she oversteps them.

Her latest coup d' etat was amusing the first time only. She tends to clamp her little paws around my arm and proceeds to bite into my hand. So far, my "No, we don't bite Mummy! " seems to do the trick. As of now, she hasn't clamped down her jaws...

Both Bob and I are avid readers and at any point in time, a few open books are scattered around our house, usually on the floor next to the couch or bed. Well, that needs to change, as the little devil has decided to put her mark on them. Yes, all the books we've recently left out in the dangerous open plains of our lounge, have bite marks on the least we can't fault her on taste.

Don't get me wrong, both of us are enslaved by her and are her slaves to her every whim. Actually more so Bob. She just needs to lift her paw or raise her squeaky voice and Schatzi runs to do to her bidding. And you know what? He reads her like an open book and thus never gets it wrong.

Eh, strange as it might seem, our Maus didn't need to leave a typed message of her dark side, as Bob and I know the minute her devilish side wins the upper hand. Her ears go back, the eyelids lift frightfully high, almost reminiscent of those eternally youthful looking 60 year old's, and her engines start for her daily 1 mile dash over our furniture while using the wall as a bounce aid.

Yes, when the wild phase proceeds, the only way to deal with it is to step aside and watch it happening. Being besotted kitten parents, we might grumble, but we really think it is awfully cute...