Nuni and I go up to the attic every morning (~6am) and every evening (~6pm) to get our quality play time in. If any of these play sessions are skipped, all hell will break loose in the form of a bored kitty with unending meowing and scratching our nice things.
Nuni loves fake mice, endearingly called "mouse-ys" in our house. She has a wide variety of colors, but grey in her favorite. Our play time consists of me throwing them across the carpet and her chasing them. Here is a typical play (soon to be called "training" sessions) session.
If Nuni is not playing with a mousey, she usually just hangs out with them like this
"Hey mousey, say hello to yo' motha for me"
But just the other day, husband spied Nuni like this
I've enlarged this so you can get a good view of her face plastered against the wall. Adam knew she was not hunting for any regular mousey! SHIT JUST GOT REAL!
Finally! Nuni had her chance to put all of her years of training into action!
Unforutunately (only for Nuni), she was not able to smite the mouse and it cleverly whirred past her and hid under the stove. I'm pretty sure it's still there.
Poor Nuni has been looking in the same spots for the last two days with no understanding that perhaps the real mousey moved to another hideout. Until she figures this out, I will continue to train her night and day--wax on, wax off.
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