Spooky Tearin' Shit Up

I never, ever, not even for a second, thought I'd buy cardboard for the sake of buying cardboard. Spooky is fully-clawed as nature intended and thus his tendency is to loosen-the-dead-and-sharpen-the-new claws in each of his paws regularly on the leather chairs. This behavior has, in turn, caused me to grow as The (pussy-whipped) Cat Master.

What the hell, it was buy one get one free. What's dumb though is the leather on said chairs is essentially cooked already. Wood is clearly visible in a few spots. They look really shabby. Spook's lucky he's so cute and has personality and facial expressions I adore. Otherwise I'd pack his bags and take him to the bus station with a ticket to Toledo.

I'm kidding! Spooky doesn't know anyone in Toledo! What do you think I am, a monster? I'd get the ticket for Grand Rapids, where Spook would learn a trade, like welding from the vantage point of Dad's shoulder. That Spooky's black would help conceal the oil-residue his fur coat would accumulate in the first 1.3 minutes in Dad's garage.

Each cardboard box of cardboard honeycomb had a little packet of dried catnip beneath the honeycomb. I opened the first box, removed the honeycomb and catnip packet, sprinkled the catnip on the bottom of the box, returned the honeycomb to the box, and put the box of catnipped-honeycomb on Spook's chair.*

At first, Spooky just pulled at the honeycomb and sniffed it all over, becoming slightly aggressive about it, rubbing his cheeks against it, standing on it, sniffing it some more, rubbing against it further, occasionally drawing his claws.

Look at those little claws, extended just slightly. I think that's about the same pressure he applies to my face in the morning when he desires feeding. So sweet.

And then he became stock-still, pupils completely dilated, ready to kill. Suddenly Spooky freaked OUT on the cardboard, scratching it, rubbing it, and pawing at it, flipping it over onto the floor.

I wish I'd caught that and the rest on video. Spooky gave that box hell. It was all teeth and nails for a furious four minutes. That box nearly made it's escape via the bathroom (window?) but the Great Black Hunter seized it and worked it over vigorously before it got any further. I managed to capture the moment immediately after the kill.

Now that it's dead, Spook has no further interest. $15 in cardboard was entertaining for about 8 minutes. That about $2 a minute, right? For CARDBOARD.


*Yes, one of the leather chairs is his and the other is mine. His is laid out with cush sheets (3 million count, Egyptian, if I remember right). Spook doesn't understand personal space and I need the separation during my conscious hours. His tendency is to spread out all over me at night when I am asleep or trying to get to that dreamspot; that's too much closeness already. If I didn't know he thinks he's a dog, I'd think Spook requires co-dependency therapy.