Callie, who has gotten considerably more affectionate in the year or two since we got her, responded by purring at me. I petted her for a while, and then picked up one of her favorite cat toys: a shoestring with what used to be the pull-chain and knob from the living room ceiling fan tied to it. Callie played with it for a little while and then lost interest and lay next to me on the couch.
I made a slipknot with one end of the string, made a big loop on the end, and slipped it around Callie's shoulders. She watched me do this with complete indifference. I figured when she got up, the dangling string would get her attention and she'd wrestle her way free of it with minimal difficulty. Since that's what cats usually do with anything you put on them.
I petted her for a few more minutes, until she finally got bored and jumped down from the couch. The shoestring-and-chain followed her. She got six or seven feet then sat on the floor with the appearance of dismay. Callie stared at the knob at the end of the chain. The knob lay on the floor. Callie decided to escape from it! Using her traditional method of escape: run away!
She high-tailed it for the window behind the loveseat! The knob-and-chain followed her! "AHHH it's still chasing me!" Immediately realizing the problem, Callie seized upon the only possible solution: RUN FASTER.
She tore across the living room, bolted into the den, bolted out of the den, zipped through the kitchen and whacking Ash with the end of the knob as she did so, and down the basement stairs. A moment later, as Ash was just getting up and going "What?" Callie zoomed back up the basement stairs, crossed the kitchen and living room again, leapt onto the back of the couch, ran down the back of the couch and whacked me with the knob, across the kitchen again and AHHHHHH IT'S STILL AFTER ME! and down into the basement.
Where she hid, mewling piteously because if she moved the EVIL EVIL KNOB would come for her.
Proving that I am bad person, I was rolling on the couch laughing at this point. I did go down to the basement to rescue my panicky kitty, which involved unsuccessfully trying to coax her out from underneath the basement stairs, and ultimately spooking her into bolting again. Whereupon I grabbed the shoestring, which forced her to stop until I took it off of her.
Callie was still traumatized when Lut and I left for lunch half an hour later, but she'd recovered by the time we got back.