Over all, we're surprised at how well Kona the cat adjusted to second-class citizenship. Absent-minded pats on the head have replaced the attention we once lavished upon her. She's still heartbreakingly hopeful, meowing around her favorite ball of yarn, hoping to entice us into a game of catch or chase-the-string. Sometimes she leaves the ball of yarn on my desk, as a pointed reminder of just how long it has been since we played. The other day, she upped the ante a bit.
I was trying to get through the Laundry Mound (a geographic phenomenon found on our bedroom floor). I opened the washing machine door and grabbed the wet clothes to stuff into the dryer. But something was wrong. I couldn't pull the clothes out--they were somehow stuck. I tugged a little bit, and discovered sweaters tied to sweat pants, intertwined with jeans. Kona's ball of yarn. She dropped it into the Laundry Mound, and it went all the way through the spin cycle, twisting around buttons and looping through sleeves. In the end, I had to cut the clothes free from each other. We're still picking out little bits of yarn from our pockets.
Kona isn't talking about the incident.