Chaos Theory personified and personally geographical.
The Chaos Theory applies to playing as well. She prefers paper rolled into small balls (especially for our soccer matches and fetching) over expensive cat toys, right? But lately - Chaos Theory. So now I throw a wadded up piece of paper and she comes back with a cat toy purchased in November of 2007 and lost forever in November of 2007. If I throw *that* toy, she comes back with the tape dispenser roll (you know, that round thing left over when the scotch tape is gone?) I threw for her back in '08 but was never seen again, even by my friend who cleans for me. If she brings me the stick with the string and the fuzzy mouse at the end so I can swing it around for her to chase and jump seven feet into the air to catch, she finds, instead, the single thread hanging down from my underwear (don't ask how it could be hanging down far enough to be seen by anyone, even a cat) and goes after it. I'm sure she thinks it's hilarious that I'm waving that damn stick around like an idiot while she digs her claws into my thigh - and that one. single. thread.
It's as if I, like, stubbed my toe and then needed to make a trip to the Ladies Room. Or burped, thus signaling the need to have my hair cut.
Of course, none of the above actually happens to me - when I burp, everyone knows it means time to file my nails. So definitely no Chaos Theory for me or my body. But Abby? Oh, yeah. Scientists could learn a lot from her.
PS: I'd like to know how she can jump the wall higher today, at 6.5 years of age (or almost 40 in human years), then when she was younger? And now she tackles TWO walls - one after the other - when as a younger cat, she'd only pull her Donald O'Connor move on one wall. 'Tis a mystery.