My oldest cat, Sebastian, loves to have us throw her toy mouse for her to fetch, or sometimes she likes to play “catch” - throw it over her head, and she’ll leap into the air and catch it, then bring it back to you to throw again. She’s pretty smart.
So she’s whining for me to throw the damn mouse. I pick it up, throw it over her head, she leaps high… bats at it, and hits it hard enough to send it flying back at my head.
Boink.
Ow.
Bitch.
So, I toss her mouse back to her and I forget about it, and she happily plays by herself in the corner. I am safe. I forget being beaned by the mouse.
I finish up what I’m doing at the computer, and decide to iron my husband’s work shirt while I’m thinking about it. I head down to the closet at the end of the hall.
A little explanation here: I moved the litterbox into that hall closet, and always leave the door slightly ajar. This serves several purposes: We live in a small-ish apartment, and the litterbox being in the furthest corner of the dining area just… well, it was unpleasant. We never use the dining area for dining, but still, on a good day, those cats could produce some big stink, and there was just nowhere to go to get away from it. Putting the litter box in the hall closet kept the smell contained, and it’s beside the bathroom, anyway, which we figured, if there is to be stinky poo smell at all, it may as well be in the proper place. Plus, the cats have a strange fetish for opening every door they can. The litter box in the closet gives them a reason to go pry open a door, and they love it. It works out for everyone!
And so, as I walk down the hall, I see the door is open a little wider, and there is our youngest cat, Kero, with her little head sticking out of the hole in top of the litterbox, giving me that “I’m doing my business” look. I get the iron from one of the higher shelves, then gently close the door a little - not all the way, just enough to give her a little privacy. I turn and walk into the bathroom, where I left my husband’s shirt hanging. I take the shurt down, put it over my arm, and then innocently step back into the hallway - with my back to the closet door.
Another explanation: Sometimes, when the cats finish having a really big dump, this seems to give them the energy and strength of ten cats. They leap, and hop, and run, and tear around the apartment. A great weight has been lifted, after all…
Well. This was one of those times. As I stepped into the hall, from behind me, little tiny Kero comes shooting out of the top of the litterbox, paws forward to meet the partly open closet door, and with a vibrating THUD!, the door hits me in the back of the head. Upon recovering, Kero is nothing but a faint smell of kitty poo hanging in the air, a litterdust silhouette left in the spot she used to be.
Ow.
Bitch.