About a month ago I got a nasty cold-plus (somewhere between a head cold and something worse) which kept me in bed and away from work for a couple of days and took a good week to get better. Along the way, I got myself some herbal cough drops, the classic brand, and since I only needed a couple of them, I thought I'd put the rest in a nice dish in the living room so I could dip into that pretty bowl if I needed to, rather than leaving the cough drops in their bag, which looks messy and doesn't stand up. Not that the rest of the house isn't messy, but I was making an aesthetic effort.
Her Grace the feline bishop soon noticed that the cough drops had nice wrappers that made the cough drops attractive and within a day or two she had seized a cough drop by one of the twisty ends of the wrapper with her mouth, lifted it out of the beautiful painted Russian wooden bowl, and used it as a soccer ball. Enough, said I. I took the wrapped cough drop away from her. Again she grabbed it and played soccer. I gave up and said, "Okay, one's enough, the rest are for me." I also hid the bowl on the lower level of the coffee table, which seemed a shame since it is such a nice object, but I didn't want little yellow Swiss soccer balls all over the house. A day later everything seen fine. My cold healed and I forgot about the cough drops.
A day or two ago I was on the living room floor doing yoga and glanced toward the bottom shelf of the coffee table, and lo and behold, the bowl was empty. Completely empty. There had been at least ten wrapped cough drops in there. Only one was in sight on the living room floor. Heaven knows where the others went, but clearly +Maya Pavlova had been hard at play in my absence or during my sleeping hours. I found a second cough drop, put it with the first one back in the bowl, +Maya ignored the whole operation and had no interest, and I thought that was that.
A few minutes ago, before I decided to write this post, I heard a little noise in the living room (I usually write in my study, from which I can see just a sliver of living room) and there was +Maya, carefully lifting a party fav-- er, cough drop out of the bowl, dropping it on the floor, and swiftly kicking it and helping it skid across the floor.
I guess the Ricolas go in a closed jar or stay in their bag next time.
I wonder where all the other ones are.
Notes: 1. The now-empty bowl isn't quite this shape, it is more high and rounded, but it is a Russian khokhloma bowl like this one in the same colors. 2. The blog from which I snagged the cough drop photo above has a thorough comparison between Ricola and the CVS generic/copycat brand, if anyone is interested. 3. The photo of Herself is by yours truly with mitering by +Clumber of True Pittsburgh, canine bishop and PhotoShop artist.
Her Grace the feline bishop soon noticed that the cough drops had nice wrappers that made the cough drops attractive and within a day or two she had seized a cough drop by one of the twisty ends of the wrapper with her mouth, lifted it out of the beautiful painted Russian wooden bowl, and used it as a soccer ball. Enough, said I. I took the wrapped cough drop away from her. Again she grabbed it and played soccer. I gave up and said, "Okay, one's enough, the rest are for me." I also hid the bowl on the lower level of the coffee table, which seemed a shame since it is such a nice object, but I didn't want little yellow Swiss soccer balls all over the house. A day later everything seen fine. My cold healed and I forgot about the cough drops.A day or two ago I was on the living room floor doing yoga and glanced toward the bottom shelf of the coffee table, and lo and behold, the bowl was empty. Completely empty. There had been at least ten wrapped cough drops in there. Only one was in sight on the living room floor. Heaven knows where the others went, but clearly +Maya Pavlova had been hard at play in my absence or during my sleeping hours. I found a second cough drop, put it with the first one back in the bowl, +Maya ignored the whole operation and had no interest, and I thought that was that.
A few minutes ago, before I decided to write this post, I heard a little noise in the living room (I usually write in my study, from which I can see just a sliver of living room) and there was +Maya, carefully lifting a party fav-- er, cough drop out of the bowl, dropping it on the floor, and swiftly kicking it and helping it skid across the floor.
I guess the Ricolas go in a closed jar or stay in their bag next time.
I wonder where all the other ones are.
Notes: 1. The now-empty bowl isn't quite this shape, it is more high and rounded, but it is a Russian khokhloma bowl like this one in the same colors. 2. The blog from which I snagged the cough drop photo above has a thorough comparison between Ricola and the CVS generic/copycat brand, if anyone is interested. 3. The photo of Herself is by yours truly with mitering by +Clumber of True Pittsburgh, canine bishop and PhotoShop artist.
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