Sunday, November 27, 2011


I have decided to invent a new game.

I call it "Whack-O-Rama".

The rules are very simple. Using any means available, the "Team Captain" (Me) must smack the rest of the team (Ivan, Tiger Lily, and Jaq) whenever and wherever possible.

I suppose as games go, this game has very little structure, but it does require much strategy and planning. I employ various strategies, dependent on which victim,.....ummm, I mean teammate, I intend to strike.

For instance:

If I intend to strike Tiger Lily, I simply stand as close to her as possible, give her the stink eye and wait. Sooner rather than later she will begin to whine. This is the time to swing away. The two leggers seldom fault me for braining her when she whines and consider it "justifiable tabbycide".

For Jaq, I delegate the smacking duty to Ivan. The two leggers are still extremely protective of her and are very liberal in their utilization of the water squirty thingy. That which does not kill Ivan, only serves to make him wetter.

If I intend to put a hurtin' on Ivan, I must be somewhat more devious. It is not that the two leggers will chastise me for rattling his cage, it is the fact that he outweighs me by about sixty pounds that causes me trepidation. I must either convince Ivan that he deserves it, or that I was not the source of the smack. Given Ivan's severe lack of cerebral capacity, this is not as difficult as it may seem. I've lost track of how many imaginary fleas I've smacked off of his tiny head. There is something extremely gratifying in hearing him thank me for punching him in the noggin.

     Once, I challenged him to a contest to see who could resist smacking the other during a staring contest. I "lost" about three seconds into the competition. He strutted away extremely proud of himself for finally winning a competition.

The best smacks of all are what I like to call the "Puppetmaster" variety. These happen when I am able to manipulate them into smacking each other. Once in a great while, the opportunity arises where I am able to with a subtle gesture or simple flick of my tail, convince Ivan that Tiger Lily is hoarding food beneath her pillow thingy. This causes him to clumsily stalk her and attempt to confiscate the rumored food. As soon Tiger Lily spots the big orange dope, she lets out a high pitched whine. This whine forces an involuntary response in Ivan's forepaw which swings of its own volition and knocks the litter out of her.

Enter the two leggers wielding the water squirty thingy spraying everything in sight.

They find me in the living room, curled up on my throne in front of the firebox thingy.  Astounded that I was not involved in the chaos, they give me treats and praise me for being such a "good kitty". Though I am insulted by their language, I take the treats.

I love this game.