As such, I began to compulsively buy things for Mystic. Anyone who has ever made a cat's acquaintance knows that cats are not really into anything you would buy for them. In fact, they probably wouldn't be into cat food if they had thumbs to operate the George Foreman grill.
Aside from the 2,000 catnip toys, scratching posts (um, she's de-clawed), and toy mice, I decided to buy Mystic a cat bed. Having observed her love of the papasan, the dining room table, and the futon, I should have known this wouldn't take. And also, she slept with us almost every night. But still... I thought a bed would be a good
Oh... I saw a cute pink one! A white one that was all faux-fur-ish. And suddenly, perfection! A bed that resembled a snow-leopard pelt. Black and white! It would match my cat and I could let it get dirty and not care. Perfecto!
Mystic was terrified of this thing. She wouldn't go near it. I used to purposely throw hair ties (her toy of choice) into the bed to see if she'd go into the bed to get them. She'd arch her neck as far as she could to reach the hair ties, and never-ever-ever make contact with the bed. It was obviously contaminated with kitty Kryptonite or something. If she would play in the general vicinity of the cat bed, she'd be careful to not make contact with it. And if she did - Dear Lord - she'd jump out of her skin.
Imagine my surprise when New Cat showed interest in the bed. Of course, after living on the mean streets for goodness knows how long, a soft cat bed was probably a dream come true.
Mystic, being the diva that she is, couldn't handle that.
I'm evil. E-VILLLLLL...
Nothing like sibling rivalry...