Whiny Tuesday

I'm so bored I can't stand it. I just don't want to be here at Pleasant Valley Law today. I'd so much rather be home with the little cat, playing string. She loves her string above all her other toys: the little squishy balls, the tinfoil balls, the shiny purple fuzzy thing, the toucan on a wand, the real-live bug that limped across the floor last night.

Here's how we play string. Play close attention, because it's intricate and involved and there are many rules. Well, just one rule, which seems to be that if I'm home, I must play string. If I'm not playing string, the little cat sits with the string strewn by her paws. She looks at the string. She looks at me. Then she looks at the string again, meaningfully, longingly, just in case I didn't get it. So then I pick up the string and fling it up in the air so she can jump for it. Then I lay it on the ground and inch it past her so she can pounce on it. Then we fling and jump and inch and pounce for a while, until, finally, mercifully, she lunges for it, grabs it up in her teeth and walks around the house with string hanging out of her little mouth.

Within minutes, she's discovered wherever I've escaped to and sits down with the string at her feet and the game must start all over again. Did someone say cats have no attention span? She can do this for hours. She is obsessed with her string. Once I woke up in the middle of the night to pee and when I came out of the bathroom, she was waiting for me. With her string strewn at her paws. And even though it was 3 am and I couldn't even see straight, I played string because she's so little and furry and cute and, really, who needs to sleep.

So this is how bored and whiny I feel today. I'd rather be playing string. Hmmmph.