Ooh, winter fun with my former cat.
I was poking around in cat communities, most notably blackcats, and was reminded of my cat when I was in my teens. Her name was Mica, and our long-haired ginger boy Gideon was terrified of her from the moment he met her.
Mica was kind of a bitchy kitty. Sweet when she wanted to be, but catch her in a mood and she'd eat your hands. The only time she was absolutely up for tons of play and handling? When it would snow. I lived on Vancouver Island then, and we got some fairly good snowfalls. Up to a foot at a go, often, and Mica LOVED it. She had long hair, so she'd go out for half an hour and come back looking like she was smuggling albino moose testicles. We'd get her thawed after this initial foray, and she'd go out on our back deck and cry for us.
That was our cue to clear off some of the snow from the railing, so she could jump up and survey her domain. And... then we were supposed to wing her off the (second floor) deck, into the foot-or-two of snow in the backyard. She wanted to be FRISBEED off the deck. She'd go in at an angle, and pop up through the snowcrust, and come back for more.
You could do this until your arms got tired, and she'd keep coming back up, jumping on the rail, and giving you the 'get-on-with-it' look. Best part? Watching this wee kitty sproinging along from her landing site through unbroken snow: pop up, vanish. Pop up, vanish.
She was fun.
Mica was kind of a bitchy kitty. Sweet when she wanted to be, but catch her in a mood and she'd eat your hands. The only time she was absolutely up for tons of play and handling? When it would snow. I lived on Vancouver Island then, and we got some fairly good snowfalls. Up to a foot at a go, often, and Mica LOVED it. She had long hair, so she'd go out for half an hour and come back looking like she was smuggling albino moose testicles. We'd get her thawed after this initial foray, and she'd go out on our back deck and cry for us.
That was our cue to clear off some of the snow from the railing, so she could jump up and survey her domain. And... then we were supposed to wing her off the (second floor) deck, into the foot-or-two of snow in the backyard. She wanted to be FRISBEED off the deck. She'd go in at an angle, and pop up through the snowcrust, and come back for more.
You could do this until your arms got tired, and she'd keep coming back up, jumping on the rail, and giving you the 'get-on-with-it' look. Best part? Watching this wee kitty sproinging along from her landing site through unbroken snow: pop up, vanish. Pop up, vanish.
She was fun.