Game Over!

My cat's latest game is "Chase me around the house."

It begins whenever I'm doing something else (usually working on the computer) and therefore, as far as Jasmine is concerned, free to play.  She sits just outside the door and meows her face off.  Like something is really wrong.  A sad, plaintive cry.

Eventually, no matter how much I know she's just trying to get me to play, I'll get up and make sure she's okay.  Because, y'know, there's always that itty bitty chance that she's caught in the lamp again and is actually crying for my help.

When she sees me, she darts down the hall into the living room.  Of course, now that I'm already up, I might as well chase her.  She has four or five places she usually runs to -- beside the couch, under the desk, back down the hall to my bedroom, under the bed, on the bed -- each time, she runs to a spot and stays there.  I approach, and when I'm an inch away from petting her, she gleefully darts off to the next hiding space.  I chase after her.  (Usually putting on a mock grouchy voice I didn't know I had, saying things like, "I'm gonna get that kitty.  And I'm gonna pet her silly.")  But since she goes to the same places all the time, I usually don't bother turning the lights on all over the house.  I know where she'll be, and I just have to look a little harder to see the little green eyes staring back at me.

So, tonight, she meows and meows and meows.  And finally I fall for it, and she runs off to the living room, and I follow her.  And then she goes under the desk.  And I follow her.  And then she runs under my bed.  And I follow ... "Hey, is that cat barf?"  (Turn on light.)  "That's cat barf."  Jasmine is still under the bed, waiting for me to almost catch her, so she can run off again.  She hasn't realized that the one thing that grabs my attention faster than meowing cat is barfing cat.

Oh Lord, please don't let her figure that out.