pandemo (pandemo) wrote,

Two Faced/Black Stripe Antics

After her prolonged stay at the vet's,  Two Faced returned home in much, much younger cat mode.  She'd sloughed off her matronly dignity, and began to chase Black Stripe around the trailer, from one end to the other.  She and Spelunker used to do that as youngsters, but he'd jump onto the bed to "do the loop".  Maybe when BS can make that big a leap, but so far, only the double thunder paws gives their games away.  (This game is NO FUN if the sky isn't black...)

What qualifies as a good mother?  If you're a cat, that involves teaching your daughter to play "house games" well/safely/without getting yelled at.

Black Stripe likes high places.  Last night, Two Faced was in one of her favorite resting places, the top of the lazy boy in front of the north living room window.  Black Stripe joined her, but quickly grew restless.  From there, she made the daring leap onto the old flat black telephone, activating "no new messages."  I yelled at her, and when she got down, switched immediately to praise, but TF also leaped to the ground, disgruntled.  I picked her up, praising her softly, carefully laid her back on top and stroked her repeatedly.  Generally, TF hates to be carried, and will jump off wherever she is set on general principles.  Not this time.  Satisfied, she returned to her nap.

Black Stripe hasn't tried to climb the lace curtains, yet, but she has already decided sharpening her claws on the rug/lazy boy/box springs beats the scratch post all to pieces.  Two Faced then invented the kitty version of "king of the hill".  Since BS wouldn't scratch on it, she learned to SIT on top while her mother industriously scratched below.  Weeks passed before she'd successfully made the switch to claws on twine, not fabric.

Generally Black Stripe's more tenacious than her dam.  Whereas TF would chase the popper on the livestock whip diligently, leaping more than her height to grab it, once she had it, she quickly released it again, so that she could get the joy of catching it again.  Not BS.  She pounces, holding it in her mouth, clutching, claws out, onto the wildly gyrating upper part, as well, growling for all she's worth.

Spelunker and a much younger, smaller Two Faced used to hold mock fights all the time, her always on the bottom.  If he made her squeal, I broke them up.  She learned to lose quietly, so the game could continue.  Black Stripe squeals, and I stop it.  Today, for the first time, she roughhoused silently for quite a while.

They have yet to play a "game" of kitchen ice hockey, but TF has shown her mettle in batting an ice cube around.  At first, Black Stripe would try to play soccer with the piece of ice, but she soon learned the joy of long distance.  After all, dry paws are worth something.
Tags: animal antics

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