If kids really want to learn how to excel at the game, they need to train with kitties. Only then, will they become true masters.
The House on the Hill is a big place. While I know all the good hiding spots for humans (I check them several times a day to make sure killers haven’t crept into the house to lie in wait to murder me), I don’t know the location of all the feline hot spots for vanishing.
When I first got Cali, she disappeared, and I tore apart the house looking for her. She had managed to crawl inside the back of the fake fireplace in the living room. Needless to say, that thing is totally plugged up now, and no longer a hiding spot.
On her first night here, Cleo somehow crawled under the love seat, even though there is barely any clearance between the floor and the bottom of the piece of furniture. I’ve got that all blocked off now.
There is a shelf in a closet in the guest bedroom that the kitties love to use when they need some alone time. Lately, Cassie has taken to sitting on the bath mat on the bath tub, where I cannot see her unless I pull back the shower curtain.
I thought I knew all the hiding spots.
I finally found her upstairs, outside the storage closet, in a long, thin box that I’ve never thrown away for some reason.
As you can see from the photo, Cassie was quite content in her new private lounge area. The sun was shining in on her from the hall window, and her sisters couldn’t bother her because, like me, they had no idea where she was.
Once my heart stopped racing because I knew she was safe and sound, I snapped this photo to share on social media.
The world needed to see how adorable my kitty is.
Cassie isn’t the troublemaker. That’s Cleo’s gig. So when she went into full hide and seek mode on me, it made sense for me to think something was wrong. After all, she usually just hangs out in the kitchen sink trying to use the Jedi Mind Trick to turn on the faucet so she can have a drink.
Crisis averted, I went back to my business. After, of course, checking on Cali and Cleo to make sure I knew exactly where they were.
This all means I was totally astonished when Cassie disappeared yet again a half hour later. I know now that the girls had an awesome game of Hide and Seek going on, and I was overreacting and ruining their fun, but they need to understand that anxiety runs in my veins right alongside the blood.
I checked that box, wondering if she’d go back to it. Stupid me. Cassie was far too clever for that move.
No, she wasn’t in the dryer! Don’t be foolish. The kitties aren’t allowed in the basement. Several of the scientists I keep down there are allergic to cats.
She was curled up asleep in the laundry basket, atop the clothes I’d removed from the dryer, but had not yet gotten around to folding.
She looked so cute, that I let her stay there. Okay, I might have also been motivated to allow her to remain there because doing so meant I didn’t have to fold my laundry.
After her nap, Cassie was declared Queen of Hide and Seek, then returned to her usual perch in the kitchen sink.
Cali is never hard to find. She’s either in my lap, asleep on my chest, or curled up on the bed. I’m pretty sure she has given up being Hide and Seek Queen because she has accepted that Cassie is impossible to beat.
Cleo, on the other hand, likes to run wind sprints through the house, so even if I can’t see her, I can almost always hear her.
And sometimes, there is no need to go looking for her. As you can see, she loves to get right up in my lap and prevent me from accessing the laptop. She fancies herself to be a writer’s kitty, and believes she is an integral part of my creative process.
My kitties are awesome, and they fill my life with love and happiness. And the occasional bout of anxiety when they show off their excellent Hide and Seek skills…
Do your pets have any special talents?