Michael w6 wrote:
As to games, I had hoped to have him learn backgammon but without opposable thumbs this was in vain.
But surely he could push the pieces around. You'd still have to throw the dice for him, though. Oh, wait - then there's that divider to get past. Yep: shot that theory all to hell.
Everything was a game to my last cat, but he was half Abyssinian, and if you know anything about Abbies, that explains everything. There was this one time when rather than pushing his way through the unlatched door as usual, he decided instead to use the situation for a new game: I was doing whatever when I got this feeling of being watched, so I turned and looked, and sure enough there was this beady little eye spying on me through the crack in the door. I laughed, and told him to knock it off and just come on in, but no; rather than the jig being up as you might think, that one eye just kept peering at me. It was unnerving, and you could almost hear him giggling. At this point, my repeated urging and his implacable spying became a war of wills, for he was determined to win - and Abbies are famously stubborn - so eventually I had to capitulate (just this once!

) and go to him so I could fulfill my assigned role in the game. That one spooky little peering eye was still on me as I got to the door, which I dutifully opened to officially reveal the spy. He looked up at me and meowed a happy greeting as I knuckled his head; game now over, he came in satisfied, and went off to find his dish. That game had been a particularly good one.
He also liked to playfully bat at my palm when he accompanied me from point A to point B. My part in that game was to make like a Venus Flytrap and try to catch his paw as soon as I felt it. Sometimes I even succeeded, too. He was quite the mischievous clowner, and quite the pal.
Michel w6 wrote:
This question of clicking was talked about at work today. One person brought up the thought you express about this noise being a poor hunting stagey as you did. I had not considered this.
The noise is commonly called "chittering" (also "chattering" or "twittering", but I find those less satisfactory). Since it's an ingrained trait, I personally wouldn't apply the word "strategy" to it. But maybe that's being overly pedantic. Nevertheless, if a chittery cat were able to suppress its chittering when hunting (and I don't expect they can),
that would be strategy. Or tactics. Whatever. Sometimes the distinction isn't always so clear to me.
Speaking of strategy, have you ever read the
Book of Five Rings?