I'm pretty sure Boo! thinks the one-eyed critter in the big, glass box is here for her amusement. As is the spiny lizard in the even bigger, glass box. Boo! sits on top of the boxes, on the screen - much heavier screen, since she is capable of peeling back normal mesh like she's opening a sardine can. Learned that lesson.
It's fascinating to watch an Aby doing their thing, which is somewhere between Gremlin and monkey behavior. They are incredibly adept with their hands. Some might call them "paws" but they would be wrong, because both Dash and Boo! use them with the precision of a watch repairman.
And their eyes! They don't need actual words to convey what their eyes say. Boo! can look at me and I know she's thinking, "You're so mean, you won't let us do anything fun." Since her idea of "fun" is much different than mine, and I'm the one who has to clean up after she's had her "fun" then, yes, she's correct.
Despite my best efforts at second guessing her, she manages to sneak in some tricks I could never have anticipated. Like the kid who sticks their finger in a light socket - even though you just told them it would hurt - if Boo! gets something into her head, she will wait until I am otherwise occupied and do it. This has led to some interesting events.
Like the time she got wedged behind the television which hangs high on the wall. Now, she had been caught walking across the top of it, and I made her get down (I'm such a meanie.) But Boo! can't hear the word "no" - it must sound like dolphin speak to her - so she went back up and proceeded to get stuck. I had to get the ladder to climb up and rescue her.
Boo! has been physically removed from many other places. I could not find her the other day, and I looked everywhere. After calmly walking from room to room, using my sweet "here kitty, kitty, kitty" voice, I was having heart palpitations and sweating profusely, so the voice changed as well. It became that frantic voice parents use when their kid is missing in a department store. Now, the parent knows the kid is most likely hiding inside of one of the clothes racks (I am more than a little familiar with this ploy) but there is that moment of doubt. That voice.
I tried once more to see if she was hiding in the laundry room. That's when her little head popped out from inside the rag bin on the top shelf. I nearly had a heart attack! She just looked at me with that, "What?" look. Like the parent whose kid finally pops out from within the clothes hanging on the rack, you're so happy to see that silly little face, you forget how scared you were and just scoop them up and give them a kiss. That scenario is played out over and over again in our house.
Brother Dash doesn't get into as much mischief as his little sister. He is usually the one hovering over her as if he's trying to protect her from herself, or attempting to talk her out of her current plan. He's the one who looks at me with worry in his eyes. If I am looking for her, he usually accompanies me on the quest. Sometimes he finds her for me. If he can't find her either, then the worry look creeps in.
To those who don't know me, it may sound like I'm complaining. Trust me, I'm not. I can't even remember my life before Dash and Boo! I mean, the Ragdolls are so sweet and quiet, and Fancy is my not a cat, but a human in a cat body, who is so grateful to be here he does little to rock the boat cat. Jack and Rooney are big couch potatoes. Truth be told, it was kinda boring pre-Aby. So, give it your best shot, Boo! I'm getting pretty good at being your mom.
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