We have a large, cylindrical, heavy cardboard container that we use as
a dirty clothes hamper. It is very sturdy, as it was made to hold
industrial grade dissicant - the cardboard is a good half-inch thick.
This is what Dulce Mae likes to sharpen her claws on.

Now, the container was free, and she's not doing any deep damage, just
making little bits of paper to chew on (which MAY be her whole point -
grin). Still, we try to discourage it, by asking her not to claw up
the hamper.

She knows that if I am nearby, I will grab her, hug her and put her
back a few feet away from the hamper, while asking her to quit. Senyah
just yells and says, "Dulce Mae! Stop it!" (grin). So Dulce Mae knows
that when I'm on the toilet, she'll likely not get removed from her
bit of fun.

Now, I do the laundry on Saturday. This involves taking the clothes
hamper into the closed laundry room with me. On Saturday. Every week.
For a bunch of years. Last week, I simply could not get to the laundry
on Saturday. I ended up doing it on Sunday.

I am in the bathroom, and Dulce Mae runs in to join me. I tell her
what a good princess she is, and how she's my very favoritest girl
kitty (eg, my only girl kitty - grin).

Suddenly, it dawns on her that I am in the "can't get up and stop you
now" position. She runs into the hallway, turns to the spot where the
clothes hamper was, actually rears up on her hind legs and starts
scratching... at the air! She falls forward, because there is no
hamper to support her forward-leaning weight, and her face is just an
incredible mixture of shock and surprise.

I have a good hearty laugh at her expense, but she is a nice little
girl and decides I can repay her humiliation with a couple of good
skritches.

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark