In preparation for a gathering of the descendant*, and the cobwebs having gotten rather out of control, I bought a new Sessions** this morning, my old one having (1) gotten rather messed up some time ago, and (2) been left out on the patio.
When I picked it up this morning, Southmoon and Top Hat promptly fled. Huckleberry was cautiously inquisitive. I'll show him! Brandishing the Long-Handled Cat Tickler, I tickled the cat for a while.
This, it seems, was a mistake. When I then proceeded to tickle the cobwebs, Huckleberry was dashing around trying to get to where the tickleball was, in Maximum Play Mode.
Now, if I could just teach him to jump up into the high corners and sweep up the cobwebs with his fur....
* All one of her.
** Or that other name that comes up as an autosuggest after "FBI director William"***.
And by the time she's said 'Hoolima Kittiluca Cheecheechee' It is usually too late!
Now I can't remember what train of thought led me to "The Philological Waltz" this morning, but the affirmative-consent connection came later.
Might have been something to do with a bit of world-building that had me distracted during morning walkies, trying to come up with a plausible human-inhabited world of the distant future in which one could have adventures among the wild tribes. (It calls for some oddly specific geography, but the history isn't too farfetched.)