I am convinced that Roxie will either someday be elected to a major public
office, or simply become an extreme-sports enthusiast of considerable
reknown. Either way, she's so smart it scares me.

One would figure that, ordinarily, a cat might have an "out of sight, out of
mind" attitude on certain things. Not our Roxie. We have a toy that's a
great favorite of hers; I think it's marketed as "Cat Dancer" but Louie and
I call it a mousietail. When it's not playtime, we've been trying to kieep
it hidden in a high shelf of the linen closet.

Now the linen closet is actually two cabinets, one above the other. The
mousietail's kept in the top cabinet. A few mornings ago, as in about three
in the morning, we were awakened by a loud, high-pitched siren of meows and
were scared as hell. We had immediate and disturbing pictures of a trip to
the emergency vet floating in our eyes before they came into focus and saw
our little supermodel demanding playtime. Roxie rarely meows; her favorite
language is trilling, and she's so fluent in trill that Louie and I are
having a devil of a time learning to translate. Roxie was clinging to the
top edge of the lower door and kicking herself up with her hind paws. Trying
to, anyway. The bottom door now has Roxie-marks all over it.

The thing is, we hadn't used the mousietail in a couple of days. So much for
the out of sight, out of mind thing. She knows it's there, and she is as
persistent as a little child nagging the hell out of her parents for a new
Barbie. The night before, she jumped over three feet up and caught the latch
of the top door, and actually got it open in the pursuit of her toy, making
her more like Dennis the Menace raiding the cookie jar. I thought she'd be
better mannered, really! She's such a disciplinarian with the Juvies, and
usually spends so much time in meditation that I thought she'd never resort
to nighttime raids!

Blessed be,
Baha

--

Three thousand years ago,
cats were deified in ancient Egypt.
To this day, they have not forgotten.