Cronsky

Cronsky was sitting in her cat tower cubby, where I put her bowl of food so the dog won't eat it. She was just tucked in there, looking out and watching the living room. I looked over at her while I sat on the couch. "I suppose you feel safe and cozy in there?" I said, wishing I was little enough to hide in that small space. "Oh sure," she said. "But mostly this is great because I have a nice game room back here." "A game room," I repeated. "You disappear into a game room?" "It's great," she confirmed. "Mouse-Batting II, Extreme Catnip Hunt, Dog-Pog Destroyer... lots of fun stuff." "Should I ask how you manage the controllers?" "Some of it is just batting with paws, but some make you exercise the whiskers' mind control levels." "Whiskers hold mind control?" I was suddenly learning a lot. "Yeah. But I have to rest them for now. It gets tiring. That's why I nap so much." "Sure." I watched her lay her head down on her paws. Amazed by the conversation, I looked around at Bones who had heard the whole thing. He seemed dubious. I shook my head at him - she was making stuff up. Later that day, though, I saw him come in from the kitchen where the back door is, and he stopped at the cat tower since Cronsky was gone, and peeked into the cubby. "It's not there," I said loudly. "There is no game room." With a shameful pout he trotted to his spot on the couch. I think he still believes her.

#cronsky #game #mindcontrol #whiskers