Queen Korat the Eleventh has an obsession with things stringy, or at least what she perceives with her mini-brain to be stringy things.
I ate spaghetti tonight, which I frequently do. I would twirl the spaghetti strands around my fork like a reg'lar Eye-talian and lift it hot and steamy out of the bowl and Eleven, of course sitting right in front of me on the computer, followed the dangling strands with her eyes like it was irresistible bait on a fisherman's line. Occasionally, not on tonight's occasion, she will eat a bite or two, especially if I choose one myself for her Highness and drape off a book or something.
Water. Cats HATE water, it's like kryptonite or something to them. Not Eleven. But only a particular kind of water, the kind that makes a thin string when the tap isn't on full blast. I have posted videos of her oblivious to the water streaming off her head and trunk. She tries to catch the string of water as it goes down the drain pipe, like it's getting away from her. She will not jump into standing water like a dog might do. The string's the thing. When I shower she doesn't jump into the bathtub, but she does perch on the toilet next to the shower and meow--loudly--to get in. She's attracted by the streams of water coming out of the shower head. When I'm done and the water drips out of the pipe into the drain, particularly if I leave the tap on slightly to produce a stream, she is tres interested. She is not interested in drinking it. She's intent on pursuing that dreamy stream before it gets away.
Every day when I floss my teeth, unspool some dental floss, preparatory to wrapping the ends around my two index fingers one end dangles of course and Eleven is like it's a mouse, clawing and scratching at it, clawing and scratching me is all it amounts to.
God help me if I leave a roll of toilet paper out. If it's on the spool I will hear her unraveling it. If I take it off the spool and leave it on the sink she's on it. I have the equivalent of a roll of scratched, clawed, unspooled toilet paper in the cabinet under the sink. I have found when I have been distracted the entrails of toilet paper on the floor from the bathroom down the hall to my (our) bedroom. It's a toilet paper massacre scene. As soon as I hear her, when I hear her, I jump out of bed and she knows! She knows she's been bad. Course I don't do anything to her about it, just clean up the carnage like a pussy cat-whipped motherfucker! She has me completely wrapped around one of her little toes.
Every time I pore new litter into her box she goes wild the same way as with the floss, clawing at the string it makes as I pore it into her box. Now when I change her litter, I move her box to higher ground so that she can't scatter it everywhere. Before my trip to Brazil I bought a new box of a different kind of litter. Didn't open it until I got back. The first day I pored some of the new, it kicks up dust as it comes out which repelled her. But a little while later I heard her scratching at something and looked her way. The idjit was clawing at the opening of the box of litter to get the litter to come out. And some did. I thought it was a one off. Then today I heard the same thing, this time I knew, and went over to the box of litter and she had gotten much more of it out of the box. Got some electrical tape and taped the damn spout hole up.
So yeah, those are five examples of her thing for stringy stuff. ...Hey, feel free to check back frequently for more edification, hear? And uh, I guess that's all I have for tonight. Good night your Highness, sleeping on the kitchen counter by the frosted window for reasons unknown. The green Publix bag goes mahvelously with your green eyes.
