There is something fundamentally wrong with Nimoy. The Girl
suspects she's inbred. Just a little, like her grandparents were cousins or
something.
First, her ears don't flatten normally. Cats flatten their
ears when they're unhappy, but I've never seen Nimoy do it. She doesn't like it
when Jingles whaps her; she hisses on occasion, but never flattens her ears.
She sort of does when she's "hunting," but it's not the same. Her
ears don't flatten in the normal sense; they rotate sideways so she looks like
she’s wearing one of those wide-brimmed flat WWI helmets. And her expression
isn't one of excitement or concentration, she looks concerned. Also maybe a
little dimwitted.
Plus, this cat doesn't know what to do with a box. Oh, sure,
The Box Of Judgment is fine, she knows how to perch in there, but all other
boxes are beyond her. She'll climb them if it's handy, pull something out of
them – particularly packing peanuts to bat around and leave all over the house.
There are a ton of packing peanuts and socks stolen from drawers left cracked
which she hoards in her stash under The Girl's bed. Weird.
I found a perfect, Nimoy-sized box the other night. I showed
her, and she was unimpressed. She tried to get excited about it, I mean she bit
it a couple of times. It didn’t do anything or smell or taste interesting, so
she tried to walk away. I caught her and put her in the box. Nimoy just sat
there staring at me, as if to say "Now what?"
Sigh. So I picked her up and rearranged her into a little
sleeping ball and laid her back in the box. I tucked in her tail. She proceeded
to bite her tail, but she stayed in the box.
So far so good. I got ready for bed and laid down beside
her, the box sitting between my spot and Hubby's for whenever he came to bed.
Seeing it was bedtime, Nimoy jumped out of the box and
stretched out in Hubby's spot. She even put her head against his pillow. Box
aren't for sleeping in, they're for sitting in judgment of the house.
She is similarly confused by baskets. Except when you upend
an empty laundry basket over her, then she accepts her confinement without complaint.
She moves it around some, like a little Dalek, but mostly she just sits there.
No playing, just a time out. Jingles considers laundry baskets to be toys. Any
other type of basket is just a fancy box and is treated accordingly. We’ve held
Nimoy while Darth Jingles played in a basket, but Nimoy just didn’t get it.
I seriously don't understand this cat.
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