My elderly-probably-senile cat just came out for a middle of the night jaunt with me (if any concerned cat lovers are worried, she’s ancient and largely indoors but will occasionally venture out with me onto the property, which she refuses to leave) and there was a brushtail possum in the tree.
Like this one, because in Australia we have this instead of squirrels. Anyway, possums make this horrible, super loud screech that sounds a little like a combination of a screaming woman and running metal/nails across a chalkboard. Cat hears this, fluffs her tail up, and herds me back to the house (she’s also super into herding. During thunderstorms I get herded under the bed, but much to her dismay, I don’t fit super well).
We get inside, and she makes a BEELINE for the cat carrier (in which our kitten sleeps in some sort of weird, taking back the power move since it is the object that carries her to the vet and she knows it). She sniffs at it with a fuckton of suspicion- ostensibly because she thinks that the possum was actually the kitten, having found a new and exciting way to torment her.
So now we’ve established that the kitten is Elsewhere and therefore not an immediate threat, she made a (failed) attempt to herd me into the litter box and is now licking her wounded pride (by which I mean she’s chewing on her back claws, like a lady) on the guest bed.
This concludes tonight’s episode of Cat Stories By Lesbians.