"Watch a cat doing something mean and wrong--if ever one gives you the chance; notice how anxious she is that nobody should see her doing it; and how prompt, if detected, to pretend that she was not doing it--that she was not even thinking of doing it--that, as a matter of fact, she was just about to do something else, quite different.  You might almost think they had a soul."

    -- Jerome K. Jerome, "Novel Notes"

It was another cold, windy winter day, but as always, the cats insisted on going outside.  And as always, after we took them outside, they demanded to go back inside five minutes later.  Nicky still had plenty of energy left, and when he spotted Lizzie lying on the living-room floor near Pat's feet, he started to harass her.  Pat told Nicky to leave her alone, and the little black cat obeyed, but he also quickly came up with another plan to get his way.

   Since the direct approach hadn't worked, Nicky took a different tack, using misdirection and strategy.  He lay down on the carpet near Lizzie, and washed first one front paw, then the other.  Then he slowly stretched those freshly washed paws toward Lizzie, a ruse that resembled the kind of transparent trickery a boy might attempt in order to put his arm around a girl's shoulders in a movie theater.  Both Pat and I were watching him, smiling at his attempts to be nonchalant and oh-so-careful, but when he touched Lizzie, we told him once more to stop.

   The determined Gatito Perfecto tried it again, but by now Lizzie had had enough, and she got up and walked away.  Hopping onto the couch next to Pat, she knew she would be protected there from any and all annoying little brothers.  Nicky turned and sauntered off with a flip of the tail that we suspect was his way of telling Lizzie, "Do you really think I was going to bother with you?  Don't flatter yourself!"