Cecilia asked why I like going to jail- here's the story. When I first joined the cat kingdom, The Others were not-so-happy. They locked me under a chair upstairs, and wouldn't let me go downstairs. They had Feline-Power that I was unable to break. After a long time, they allowed me to go downstairs, and I was finally able to eat and wee in the big rooms.
After some time, I found a hidden power that I could lord over Kitten. It was a turning point! I simply had to get in his face, and he would get all upset and move backwards- I didn't even have to lay a paw on him! As I perfected my power, I was able to back him around the perimeter of the living room. Mom started getting worried that the old Kitten would get a stress-related Kitten heart attack. She tried yelling at me; didn't work- she tried picking me up and putting me somewhere else to interrupt my power; didn't work either.
In our old (1906) house, we had a dining room that was connected to the living room by French doors, and the doors were kept shut to keep us out. Mom finally got so frustrated with my power that she said, "That's it, you're going to jail!" She opened the doors and threw me in the dining room. I liked it.
When she let me out, I went right back to utilizing my power. Same consequence. After awhile, I picked on Kitten just so I could go to jail. I would use my power and then go and sit in front of the doors. If Mom wouldn't get off her lazy butt, the routine would be repeated. I finally skipped using my power and would just sit and wait to be thrown into jail. I liked to stare out through the lace while Kitten and Sprankeltje would stare at me from the living room.
I miss our old house.