I was sitting here a while back, waiting for inspiration to strike, when Geordie sneaked up to Lillian's computer and stole a stuffed sheep she had sitting there. She had it there because he left it wedged between the lids for the pots that are sitting upright in the baker's rack in the kitchen. I don't know if he climbed up there to hide it, or if he threw it up there (he loves to toss his stuffed animals around, and boy, has he got a good range!), and it doesn't matter because now he'll hide it somewhere else.
But that reminded me of my friend Lou's cat who used to steal her socks and hide them. Lou rolled her socks up into a ball, and if she didn't put them in the drawer immediately or if she left her drawer open a little bit, her socks would vanish. Fortunately she could generally find them again. Still it always amuses me that cats feel the need to hoard things. I understand playing with toys, but hiding their toys is, for some cats, an even bigger thrill than playing with them. I thought for a while that Geordie was hiding his toys because one of the dogs, Ceilidh, likes to carry around stuffed toys too, but that's not it, or not entirely at least.
Now, you have to understand that this cat honestly believes that if he's sitting in the window on the sill behind the curtains that we can't see him even though his tail is hanging out onto the couch. He's beautiful, not smart. And a freak in some ways, truly a 'fraidy cat. If you ever come over to visit, the chances are incredibly good that you'll never see him. But I had to admire his assured, purposeful trot out of the den, carrying his pilfered sheep gently in his mouth. I wonder where he put it? I have no idea, but he's back and he's looking awfully smug.
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