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What the Pixie catches then releases, the Misha catches and wants to keep.
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I was driving to the grocery store and I passed a house.
And the house had a sign.
And the sign said FREE KITTENS!
And I’m all like OMG! Kitties! I love kitties! I should stop!
No I shouldn’t! I got kitties at home. I don’t need more kitties.
My kitties would hate me with the passion of a thousand white hot fiery nuns!
I should stop and find out what kind they are.
No! If I see them I won’t be able to resist them!
But kitties! They need a home!
Fortunately by the time I’d got through all that in my head, I was at the grocery store.
So, there I am, sprawled on the sofa, typically with an arm hanging over the side. That’s when the Pixie creeps into action… for what seems like ages, if I’m laying on the sofa, she’ll come alongside, bump into my hand, then flop over and start scratching at the sofa.
Obviously she knows this is ‘bad’ and I’ll try grabbing at her feet or catch her tail or rubbing her tummy (she hates that) to try and dissuade her. Then she attacks my hand / arm, biting and scratching, and I yelp in pain and let go. Then it starts all over.
All this time, I just thought she was being a naughty kitty, exploiting my exhaustion so she could peel the fabric off the bottom of the sofa.
Until the time that I was too damn tired to care. As usual, she bumped my hand, then flopped over and started scratching the sofa. Except this time I didn’t bother to try and stop her.
Then after a few moments, she stopped by herself. She moved back to my hand and bumped it again. Scratched the sofa some more, then bumped my hand again.
It’s been a game, the whole time, and I didn’t even know it. She wants me to grab her feet, catch her tail, rub her tummy, so that she can ‘fight’ my hand. I guess I didn’t clue in to the fact that she was just playing around, because she uses full claws and teeth – the blood and scarring caused me to think it was for-reals.