Scientific Poof

For one who has so few actual thoughts, Ivan can be quite thought provoking.

As I have stated in the past, Ivan is the bravest and most loyal friend that I have ever subjugated and bent to my will. However, he has a few...........idiosyncrasies.

In a word, he is ideosyncrazy.

Case in point: Ivan will happily stand up to the largest dog thingy, beat the Hoover sucky thingy into submission with one paw tied behind his back, (well, his short little misshapen legs won't actually reach behind his back, but you get my point) chew a broom handle and spit out toothpicks, and sleep through a Justin Bieber CD without showing the least fear, but if he walks into the bathroom and finds a washrag on the floor, he is suddenly transformed into a quivering bowl of foul smelling orange Jello.

I first noticed this oddity when the male two legger absentmindedly left a ball cap laying on the couch next to where Ivan had been napping. Upon awakening, Ivan spotted the stray headgear, immediately poofed and bolted from the livingroom. I first attributed this poofy fit to Ivan's innate fear of all things round, however after witnessing several similar events, I realized his neurosis ran much deeper.

I decided to study him in the hope that perhaps I could help my dimwitted friend overcome his handicap. Even if my attempts should fail to cure him, at least it should provide some amusement.

What can I say?  I'm a giver.

Anyway, I started with subtlety. Moving one of his toys while he wasn't looking, hiding his foil ball....etc. These all elicited fairly minor responses. I then began utilizing more aggressive measures. I rearranged his hairball collection, and even re-sorted the stash of stray sock thingies that Ivan has so painstakingly stolen from the dirty clothes hamper. This caused him much distress and he began to develop a slight facial tic.

I decided it was time to bring out the big guns.

While Ivan lay in uneasy slumber, I hid his food bowl.

The effect was priceless. As he entered the hallway, his beady little eyes beheld a horrible sight. In the space where his trusty food bowl had resided for the last four years, there was.......nothing. He executed a poof that was instantly inducted into the Poofing Hall of Fame For Meritorious Poofiness and deserves a special exhibit in The Museum of All Things Poofy. (PHFFMP&MATP) In a panic he began searching here there and yonder in a fruitless quest for the love of his life. After an hour of panicked searching, he finally collapsed upon the bathroom floor and napped. When he awoke, his dish was filled and almost back in its proper place. I say "almost" because it was actually four millimeters closer to the wall than before. (though four millimeters seems small, it bothered him greatly)  He still ate his dinner, but he ate it with a certain amount of distrust.

Did my little experiment amuse me? Definitely.

Did it benefit Ivan or science in general?

I'm sorry, what was the question again?