I know, I know, I write about too many Pudgy behaviors.Â And no, Iâ€™m not talking about trying to zip my jeans after a chocolate orgy, although that could bring us down the pudgy-speak road rather quickly.
In this case I mean I probably blog about our cat, Pudgy, too much.Â In my defense she constantly amuses me, so why wouldnâ€™t I share that?Â We could all use more happy, right?
What sheâ€™s been doing lately that cracks me up is â€œhidingâ€ without really hiding. She seems to think I canâ€™t see her, and plots her attack on my feet or other convenient body parts.
Iâ€™ll be reading, for instance, and will feel that â€œsomebody is looking at meâ€ feel that gives me goose bumps. Â Looking around Iâ€™ll spot Pudgy in the middle of the room, body frozen with one paw in mid-stride, staring at me.Â I swear itâ€™s as though sheâ€™s trying to hypnotize me into thinking sheâ€™s not about to race over, plaster her body around my foot in a sumo wrestler death grip, and commence gnawing on the most tender and juiciest of toes.
â€œPudgy,â€ I say. â€œI can see you.â€
She doesnâ€™t blink, but her other paw moves just a teeny bit closerâ€”in slow motionâ€”towards my foot.Â We stare at each other until it hurts.Â Another tiny step closerâ€¦
â€œPudgy!â€Â She keeps coming at me with the speed of the Internet on Black Friday. Â â€œI can SEE you.â€
Finally she leaps at meâ€¦Iâ€™m supposed to act completely surprisedâ€¦and follows through on her murderous plans.
Her other game is hiding under sheer or translucent objects. Â She can obviously see me, but doesnâ€™t think I can see her.Â I play along and say, â€œWhereâ€™s Pudgy? Wheeeeeereâ€™s Pudgy?â€ Â After a climatic minute or two she makes her move and slaps at me before racing off to find another hiding spot.
Goofy? Yes, we both are. But, her playfulness is the best part of my day.