Pandora is our fluffy, fat, long haired torti. She was the second cat we adopted and is as different from Atlas as can be. She's vocal, affectionate, aloof, and incredibly "curious" (in other words, naughty). She is our most dependent cat. She goes where we go. When we go to sleep for the night, she comes and sleeps with us. Her day starts when ours does (as I mentioned in the window perch post). If we're watching tv, she's in room. Working on the computer in the office, she's in one of the closest cat beds next to us. Even now. I had to look, but there she is, about 3 inches from my knee. She does this so easily and quietly that I don't notice her get from one place to another. I just turn and there she is.
Although our other cats are getting braver in regards to people other than my husband and me, Pandora has always been the sole greeter in the house. Those who come into the house, like repair people and home nurses, think she's the only cat we have (since she's the only one they usually see). Every stranger (and my mother) have all had their personal belongings trampled through by Pandora. Most while said belongings were about a foot from them. If a purse is put down in the house, she will get in it. And she will take something. And the victim usually will never know (until I retrieve it from her as she makes her escape).
She's so large and makes herself known. She bobs her head at things she's interested in, and at new people. At the same time, she's able to crawl between legs and sneak into a briefcase a few inches from its owner without being caught. Only because we know her and watch for her do we stop her getaways. She is surprisingly sneaky and can be invisible when she wants to be.
If there is a crash somewhere in the house, one of two things happen. We see Pandora 1.5 seconds later, running as far and as fast as she can away from what we can only assume is the location of the origin of the noise. Or, and this happens far more often, we go to check out what's going on, and Pandora is sitting there in the vicinity of naughtiness. She's facing away from it or spread out in repose a few feet away. Washing her face. Acting like she has no idea what we're there for or that anything is out of place. Nope, nothing to see here. Can't we see that she is staring at that fascinating speck of wall there? She didn't have anything to do with anything. She wasn't even a witness. See how she's not even looking int he right direction? Uh-huh.
Last night, Pandora decided to show us how clever she is. Although she's a strange cat in personality and look, she is not stupid. She likes to act like she's not the brightest feline of the lot, but we know better.
While making supper, I caught her sitting upright on the floor next to a cabinet door. She'd take one paw and bat forcefully at the corner, then she began to curl her gigantic paw around it and pulled. One, two, three fast times in a row. The cupboard came a quarter of an inch open, immediately shutting again each time. It made three sharp, successive thuds.
I did my typical shocked and scolding (and trying to hide the amusement) voice. "Pandora! Pandora, no!" She then walked out of the kitchen. Meow. Meow.
I finished cooking supper. She walked through the kitchen several times. Meow, meow. I cooed at her, gave her a pet. Plated our dinner, put everything away, and took our food out into the family room.
The hubby and I had been eating for maybe 5 minutes when we muted the television. We heard the soft sound of plastic. Gnawing on plastic. Someone had gotten something, but I am pretty diligent about putting all things away that could cause problems before leaving a room. Maybe I had forgotten something? Still, I turned to my husband and said, "I think it's Pandora." She loves plastic.
I headed to the doorway, thinking I'd accidentally left something out. I assumed I'd find an empty ziplock bag or other small, comparable plastic thing that had contained some other ingredient. What I found was one of my top, very large cupboard doors swung as far open as it goes. Pandora was on the counter top right underneath the open cupboard. She had pulled down a bag of saltine crackers and was chewing on the ends of it. It had been on the second shelf. I feigned shock.
"PANDORA!"
"Mew?"
"PANDORA!"
"Mew, mew."
Upon her scolding, she sat up slowly. Released the saltines. She was completely relaxed and content. She stretched her body back up, away from the counter and the crackers. She stretched her front legs back up into the open cupboard. She then stuck her paws and face up into the first, then second shelf. She was calmly retrieving something else. She thought her scolding was for the item she had picked and not the entire situation happening right there.
I grabbed her before she settled on a new item, my "bad kitty" voice bellowing at her the whole time. Put her on the floor and shut the cabinet door. She rubbed on my legs. I picked her up and put her in the next room. One more scolding and I sat back down in the family room. She stayed in the room with us for a couple minutes. The husband and I continued eating. Shook our heads from time to time.
5 minutes later, I could hear the sound of china. I looked around, and sure as hell, she had left the room without our noticing.
She was in the cabinet next to the one with saltines. Door open as far as it would go. I don't even open our cupboards as far as they go. They do not stop until they hit another cupboard or the wall. They bend all the way back. This cupboard had all our dishes in it. And the filters for our coffee machine. She was leaning on all the bowls and plates as she tried to get at the filters, hence the sound of the dishes settling into one another. Everything in that cupboard was china except the filters. She had managed to find the one thing out of 4 stacked and piled shelves that she would have any interest in whatsoever.
This time my husband came to check out the scene (since I was again in the doorway, hands on hips, scolding in my most offended and shocked voice). It's hard when she's up to no good. I'm always still a tiny bit impressed and amused. We both said, "PANDORA!"
"Mew." She retracted her upper half and sat down easily on the counter. Her owl eyes wide.
We both came up to her. I shut the cupboard, the husband continued scolding her. Then, we gave her a cuddle and went back to finish our dinner. We talked about child locks for the cabinets. I kept saying, "This is not a trick she needed to learn" and sighing.
We waited and listened. She came into the room we were in and made herself comfortable.
She was done, at least for the evening. She hasn't touched them again.
Yet.
