The sock thief
While I don’t mention them very often on here, we have two cats — Jem (black cat) and Scout (tortoiseshell), named after the brother and sister in the book To Kill A Mockingbird. Hey, I was an English major! Like their namesakes, they’re brother and sister, and we got them from a feral cat rescue about a year and a half ago. They now live a luxurious life relaxing on the couch, monitoring the comings and goings on the sidewalk in front of the house, and making darn sure that no trash can goes un-upended.
Scout is the less active of the two, but don’t that fool you! Her serene outer demeanor conceals the diabolical plans she’s cooking up. If a cat launches itself from the floor onto the middle of the bed at 3AM, chances are it’s her. This is why there’s generally a “no cats in the bedroom after bedtime” rule, although they sometimes figure out how to get the door open anyway. Darn cats.
Neither one is super-playful, but if I had to pick one, I’d say it’s Jem that’s more of the hunter. His two favorite things? Those little plastic strips that seal milk jugs, and socks. He especially loves socks, and since we have wood floors, he can get a fair bit of mileage with batting them around.
Right before we left for Hawaii, I was sorting laundry, and the pile with the socks happened to be against the (closed) bedroom door. So I tossed a sock over there, and within seconds, it disappeared. I did it again — same result. This was vastly entertaining. Last night, I decided to see if I could duplicate the incident for John, and Jem of course complied. Watch the following video to see how it went. Stick around to the end — it’s pretty funny. OK, maybe it’s not THAT funny, but hey, we don’t have a TV, so I have to laugh at SOMETHING. :-)