One of Annie's favorite things to do is to play what we like to call "food hockey," though I guess it's more like "food soccer." She takes a piece of kibble and bats it back and forth from paw to paw. The game can become pretty involved, moving down the hall, into any of the bedrooms, and sometimes even down the stairs. It can also be very loud - you wouldn't think a single piece of kitty kibble could make soooo much noise, even on hardwood floors, but it does!
I should probably enter "food hockey" into the lexicon of terms that I put up early on in this blog. And that leads to another lexicon term, "kitty caltrop." Because rather than eat the hockey puck when she's done with a game, Annie will abandon it wherever it lies. Then I will inevitably step on it, and will inevitably be barefoot...
But I have to laugh at how seriously she takes this game. Once, I saw her bat the piece of food towards Bit. Now, I don't know if she hadn't realized that Bit was there, or if she was trying to get Bit to join in the game. But Bit didn't do that - she just stretched out her neck and gobbled up the "puck."
There was a moment that Annie just stared at her in horror (and no, I don't think that I'm anthromorphizing overly much here - her outrage was fairly obvious.) Then she turned and walked sadly away.
I couldn't help it - I started laughing. Nothing drives a cat into the sulks quite like laughing at them, of course, so Annie went to hide for the rest of the afternoon. Poor thing. She is so misunderstood.