One of the things I loved about Ambush were his antics. He had to explore every where: not to necessarily get out but to just see what was on the other side.
In August 2009, Ambush decided that he was going to go on a walkabout. I had had dinner with a friend, got home kinda late, and took a shower before going to bed. It must have been about 1:00 AM or so. Just as I was about to get into bed, none of the kitties were in my room. Most nights, as soon as I walk into the bedroom the kitties are on the bed ready to cuddle. I could hear the cricket noises from outside even though all of the windows were closed.
I walked into the living room and found the front door open! Yikes! As I moved towards the front door, I checked each room. I’ve watched too many B movies to just open the door or close it without checking. My purse and computer equipment were still here. All of the kitties were out on the landing, lead by Stella (the fearless one) who was standing on the stairs. Ambush and Kiesha weren’t far away from the door. They all looked very guilty and came in as soon as they saw me.
I checked the apartment for intruders again and locked the door. I must not have closed it completely and Ambush opened it while I was in the shower. Talk about an adrenaline rush. I was up for another hour and half after that watching TV until my nerves calmed down.
It’s funny now, imagining him prying open the door and then Stella marching out like she owned everything. He always wanted to see what was out there. Seeing was usually enough. He would watch the snow fall on the porch but wouldn’t venture out into it.
He had one experience with snow. He was maybe three or four and we had the first snow with a few inches. He sat next to the glass sliding doors watching the snow flakes come down. He looked rather miffed when the door was opened and the cold air hit him. He was gently picked up and plopped in the middle of the snow. His tail puffed completely out and he shot back inside, shaking his paws while running full tilt.
He used to get on my dresser and pull out all of the hair bands so he could chase them around the house. When he was a kitten he chased balls made out of crumpled aluminum foil. Toss it down the hall, and he would carry it back in his mouth. As he got older, he only carried about half way back, and then something else would grab his attention. He would drop the ball and trot off after something else.
Probably the funniest thing about him was that he loved to have his belly rubbed. Push him lightly on his back and he would flop onto the ground. Rub his belly and scratch between his front paws and he would kneed the air with his paws. (He also let me clip his claws when he was on his back like that.)