Molly the Cat

June 23rd, 2005 at 4:59 pm ]

Molly’s whole life now revolves around a new toy so unbelievably, undeniably fun that it seems to never grow boring. Pray tell, what is this glorious plaything? None other than a pair of strings of beads that hang beguilingly from the top of the cat tree. The strings are long, and the beads are colorful, shiny plastic. When smacked they swing wildly and make delicious clicking sounds. This, apparently, is everything a young cat needs. Molly attacks them ferociously and continuously. Late at night you can hear the beads clack and the tiny thumps of Molly’s paws as she dashes and jumps around. Lift your head off the pillow and you may see her puffed-up, erect raccoon tail zipping back and forth. She plays with the beads first thing in the morning, and second thing, too. Oftentimes when I come home from work the beads are a tangled mess, wrapped around the cat tree (luckily, Molly seems to be able to untangle them herself; how she does that is a mystery). The beads have become the focus of her attention, and I see no signs that she’ll tire of them.

Twinkie is predictably lethargic even as Molly plays obsessively. Twinkie’s one notable act in recent days was an innocuous but (to me) oddly amusing moment. She was perched on the back of my couch, looking out the window with her nose pressed against the window screen, when suddenly she emitted a loud and plaintive meow. It traveled out into the night air and echoed off the next-door building, the alleyway and various dumpsters. I was quite taken aback by its strength, but Twinkie was unmoved.

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