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Dec. 10th, 2011 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yagathaiSpent a lazy morning taunting the cats with the red laser pointer. Oona still hasn't figured out what all the fuss is about -- she mainly ignores it.
Minerva likes to pretend she's above it all but every now and then she'll pounce on it and chase it in circles for a few minutes before remembering that she's far too sophisticated for anything this crude. She is perhaps not as lithe as she used to be now that she's deep into her middle age, but she's lost none of her hunter's instincts. It used to be very frustrating playing with string with her because unlike most normal housecats, who will tie themselves into knots chasing any stringlike object, Minerva would sit, watch the string for a while, and then lash out and, more often than not, snag the string on a single claw. Then she'd look at me as if to say "What? That's it? Pathetic." and walk away. Yeah, only one of my cats had to hunt to keep herself and her kittens alive, and it's easy to tell which.
Solomon, now... Solomon loves the red dot with all of the confused, oxygen-deprived-at-birth enthusiasm that he can muster, chasing after it like an obese, fuzzy, black-and-white wrecking ball, heedless of anything like furniture, boxes, human limbs or other cats in his way. His single-minded pursuit of the red dot is why I nicknamed him the Solomaniac. It is a banner day for Solomon any time he gets to chase a spot of light up a wall, and when playtime is over he yowls forlornly like his best friend has just been murdered in front of his eyes, searching the house for the red dot for at least half an hour before crying in a corner.
Minerva takes a dim view of the undignified behavior, and if he comes within three feet of her while on his chasing or mourning activities she'll immediately lash out with a barrage of spitting and head-slaps. She is a cruel mother to her retarded son, but fair. Except not fair. Mostly just cruel. Minerva: The original tiger mom.
Minerva likes to pretend she's above it all but every now and then she'll pounce on it and chase it in circles for a few minutes before remembering that she's far too sophisticated for anything this crude. She is perhaps not as lithe as she used to be now that she's deep into her middle age, but she's lost none of her hunter's instincts. It used to be very frustrating playing with string with her because unlike most normal housecats, who will tie themselves into knots chasing any stringlike object, Minerva would sit, watch the string for a while, and then lash out and, more often than not, snag the string on a single claw. Then she'd look at me as if to say "What? That's it? Pathetic." and walk away. Yeah, only one of my cats had to hunt to keep herself and her kittens alive, and it's easy to tell which.
Solomon, now... Solomon loves the red dot with all of the confused, oxygen-deprived-at-birth enthusiasm that he can muster, chasing after it like an obese, fuzzy, black-and-white wrecking ball, heedless of anything like furniture, boxes, human limbs or other cats in his way. His single-minded pursuit of the red dot is why I nicknamed him the Solomaniac. It is a banner day for Solomon any time he gets to chase a spot of light up a wall, and when playtime is over he yowls forlornly like his best friend has just been murdered in front of his eyes, searching the house for the red dot for at least half an hour before crying in a corner.
Minerva takes a dim view of the undignified behavior, and if he comes within three feet of her while on his chasing or mourning activities she'll immediately lash out with a barrage of spitting and head-slaps. She is a cruel mother to her retarded son, but fair. Except not fair. Mostly just cruel. Minerva: The original tiger mom.
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Date: 2011-12-12 12:37 pm (UTC)