Do you know what I just did, “out of sheer badness” as my mother would say? I’m sitting at the kitchen table, and I happened to glance out the door, across the hall, into the front porch, where Kat was perched on the windowsill on the left of the front door. She was doing that crouching thing she does when she’s about to jump forward, and I realised she was intending to spring across to the windowsill on the other side of the door.
Feeling experimental, I idly wondered what would happen if she lost her concentration mid-leap.
“Psssssssssssst!” I hissed suddenly and loudly at the precise second she took flight.
Thud! replied Kat, as her head whirred round to look at me, all four legs shot out in opposite directions, and she landed in a confused heap on the floor. I laughed the insane laugh of a woman who has too much time on her hands. Kat picked herself up, trying her utmost to look dignified, and shot me the filthiest look I have ever received from an animal. She stalked off to sulk in the living room.
You have to entertain yourself, somehow.