As I was going to work yesterday I saw a cat perched on a wall, very studiously washing itself. And as always, I though of Lyka.
When Lyka was about 2 years old and at her bouncy and energetic best, she decided that her favorite pastime was to make all the colony cats' lives miserable by lunging at them. There was this one morning where a kitten, who I'm certain was making its first foray out into the world having told its mother that it can take care of itself and it just wants to explore, wandered onto our front yard. Lyka, who was outside dutifully sniffing every corner of the house making sure nothing had changed in 12 hours, detected the slight movement and stopped still in her tracks. In such moments she often resembled one of large cats you watch on the Discovery channel who are getting ready to pounce on their prey. She crouched down and watched the kitten make its way daintily across our lawn. Now this little cat being completely unaware that there's a concept called dogs, was happily pawing at things and looking around. This was the moment Lyka decided to strike. Galloping full speed at the kitten, barking her sonorous barks, tail wagging madly in the air, I'm sure from the kitten's perspective Lyka looked like some kind of nightmarish monster. It ran to the nearest tree and somehow managed to climb up to the top branch and sat there, quivering and thanking its stars.
Lyka not having anticipated this, stopped short at the tree. She thought she would give the kitten a good chase around our yard till she got bored but this animal climbing a tree was unheard of. She looked up at the tree, very puzzled, as if to say "huh?? how come you can climb?" So she sat down, waiting patiently for the kitten to come down. The kitten of course had no intention of moving until this dog had been safely removed from its vicinity. Now I of course had been watching this entire proceeding and found the whole spectacle very amusing (I was 11 so don't judge me). But I decided to cut the kitten a break and took Lyka's leash, clamped it on her and somehow managed to drag her back into the house. She didn't like this one bit. I had ruined her fun.
The kitten noticed this turn of events and decided to slowly makes it way down. There was one problem though. It had no clue how to come down from the tree. When you're running for your life, I suppose some instincts kick in and climbing up a tree happens unconsciously. But coming back down is a whole different ball game. After much hemming and hawing and a few hours, the kitten managed to land on terra firma. Lyka by this time had lost interest and was fast asleep. But by some quirk of fate, she chose that exact moment to wake up and caught sight of the kitten again. Unfortunately I was too slow to stop her and off she went bounding in the kitten's direction and the kitten went straight back up that tree. It took about 15 min for me to stop laughing.
When that kitten finally made its way home that evening, it would have had an incredible story to tell.
When Lyka was about 2 years old and at her bouncy and energetic best, she decided that her favorite pastime was to make all the colony cats' lives miserable by lunging at them. There was this one morning where a kitten, who I'm certain was making its first foray out into the world having told its mother that it can take care of itself and it just wants to explore, wandered onto our front yard. Lyka, who was outside dutifully sniffing every corner of the house making sure nothing had changed in 12 hours, detected the slight movement and stopped still in her tracks. In such moments she often resembled one of large cats you watch on the Discovery channel who are getting ready to pounce on their prey. She crouched down and watched the kitten make its way daintily across our lawn. Now this little cat being completely unaware that there's a concept called dogs, was happily pawing at things and looking around. This was the moment Lyka decided to strike. Galloping full speed at the kitten, barking her sonorous barks, tail wagging madly in the air, I'm sure from the kitten's perspective Lyka looked like some kind of nightmarish monster. It ran to the nearest tree and somehow managed to climb up to the top branch and sat there, quivering and thanking its stars.
Lyka not having anticipated this, stopped short at the tree. She thought she would give the kitten a good chase around our yard till she got bored but this animal climbing a tree was unheard of. She looked up at the tree, very puzzled, as if to say "huh?? how come you can climb?" So she sat down, waiting patiently for the kitten to come down. The kitten of course had no intention of moving until this dog had been safely removed from its vicinity. Now I of course had been watching this entire proceeding and found the whole spectacle very amusing (I was 11 so don't judge me). But I decided to cut the kitten a break and took Lyka's leash, clamped it on her and somehow managed to drag her back into the house. She didn't like this one bit. I had ruined her fun.
The kitten noticed this turn of events and decided to slowly makes it way down. There was one problem though. It had no clue how to come down from the tree. When you're running for your life, I suppose some instincts kick in and climbing up a tree happens unconsciously. But coming back down is a whole different ball game. After much hemming and hawing and a few hours, the kitten managed to land on terra firma. Lyka by this time had lost interest and was fast asleep. But by some quirk of fate, she chose that exact moment to wake up and caught sight of the kitten again. Unfortunately I was too slow to stop her and off she went bounding in the kitten's direction and the kitten went straight back up that tree. It took about 15 min for me to stop laughing.
When that kitten finally made its way home that evening, it would have had an incredible story to tell.
