What once was an occasional hobby, is quickly becoming a competition.
Us felines have decided that the time has come to stimulate the mental health care industry.
We are on a mission to place the two leggers firmly on the path to insanity and paranoia.
Granted, this shouldn't be that difficult to accomplish. (especially where the male two legger is concerned. The road to the nuthouse is but a very short trip for him)
There are rules for this competition:
1. All ideas must be original, or at least non-copyrighted.
2. Insanity must occur within twenty minutes of attempt.
3. Tag teaming is allowed, but not encouraged.
4. Eight leggers may be used, but only in the bathroom.
5. Only three attempts will be allowed in a twenty-four hour period.
6. Extra points will be awarded if the attempt results in the demise of a squirrel thingy.
I began the competition implementing a "spook strategy" by standing in front of a closet, poofing, with my back arched and hissing at the closed door. This resulted in the closet being cleaned the next day.
Ivan, following the same philosophy, ran laps in the hallway in the wee hours. This had the effect of depriving the two leggers of much desired sleep as well as causing several pictures to shake until they hung crooked. This annoyed the female (she cannot abide a crooked picture) but did little to send them over the edge.
Tiger Lily employed a WWMD. (Whiny Weapon of Mental Destruction) She sat on the entertainment center directly in front of the talking box thingy and, you guessed it, whined. This caused the male two legger to:
A. Make unusual faces at her.
B. Say "Sssshhhhhhhh" numerous times.
C. Stamp his feet.
D. Reach for the water squirty thingy before realizing that his prized talking box thingy lay directly in the line of fire.
E. Finally roar at her that he has buried cats before and has no issues with digging another hole.
Those of you who watch the talking box thingy are aware that whenever some two legger grabs a gun thingy and goes out shooting at other two leggers indiscriminately, it is usually soon discovered that all the perpetrators have two things in common:
"They were quiet and kept pretty much to themselves."
And, they had a whiny cat.
I truly thought we had a winner. However, in a raging fit of self control, the male grabbed a beer and calmed himself.
Another stratagem we have been working on is our patented "cat herding chaos" plan. This is a team effort we use as the two leggers are preparing to retire. Each of us runs and hides in separate rooms. The rooms we hide in are, of course, the only rooms we are not allowed to be in while the two leggers sleep. The two leggers are then forced to waste precious sleepy time searching us out and attempting to redistribute us into the rooms in which we are supposed to spend the remaining night time hours.
We have yet to accomplish our goal, but the sudden onset of tremors in the male's hands and the female's newfound facial tic is encouraging.