Apparently my new hobby is now turning the sink in the bathroom on to running in a small, steady stream instantly upon entering so as to permit Not So Tiny Kitteh of Cuteness, AKA, Cordelia to be able to do her latest cute trick.
At first, it was amusing, because she is attracted, as I have discovered that all cats I with whom I have ever had the honor of sharing a dwelling I have had my space overtaken by are, to running water. The shower, rain, sink water, and yes, the toilet (unfortunately, even if you are already sitting on it). Her new-found ability to jump up and reach ALL THE SURFACES has enabled her to discover lots of new exciting hobbies, like leaving paw prints in the sink. So, one day, while using my hand washing time to rinse said paw prints down the drain, Cordy decided that the stream of water looked enticing.
I rinsed my hands and backed away…and wasn’t it just adorable the way that she thought that she could lap the water from the running column without getting her head wet? Wasn’t it hilarious the way that it angled off of her forehead when she tried to get closer, as she looked at it cross-eyed and confused? Did it not remind me of my Dad’s cats when they would try to walk on snow while not getting their paws wet? Didn’t it just make me cry with laughter when she discovered that the porcelain provided no traction, or that she wasn’t able to grab the stream with her paws and pull it towards her?
So, naturally my instinct was to show my whole family, immediately, how, when I turned the tiny stream on and backed away, Cordelia would come bounding in happily from across our apartment, and use the trash can, toilet and counter, 1, 2, 3, as step to hop up to her new fountain! Of course my Partner and Kid both found it equally as entertaining as I, and over the next few days we would take turns casually turning on the water whenever we had open-door bathroom needs. Cordelia would even wait patiently as we brushed our teeth so as not to get spittle on her paws.
Well, naturally, now, whenever I go to the bathroom, Cordy will wait by the door, whimpering and pawing until I let her in, and then she will sit up on the counter and look at me, expectantly, as if to say “Hey! Two-legs! I’m waiting for my refreshing sip!”.
Yes, the sink running has produced a rather Pavlovian effect, just like shaking the kibble bag, but it is almost as if her face, perplexed by why I haven’t yet turned on the sink seems to almost have me trained to do her bidding.
That, and the urge to watch her play in the water and attempt to not get wet. That’s pretty good incentive, I suppose.