Fred just caught a treat, pushed it under the throw rug inside the front door, and walked away. Then she came running back, pounced, and is now burrowing under the rug to try to find the hidden treat.
She essentially just created her own Easter egg hunt.
It's funny; Fred has always had a thing for creating games with elaborate rules, even as a kitten. Back in Philadelphia, I had a floor pillow (which I threw out when I moved, since it had become little more than a blob of cat hair and claw marks). The pillow was kind of pyramid-shaped, with a square base and sides that rose into a triangle (to act as a backrest) and so stood pretty high off the floor. When she would chase after a toy, if the cushion was between her and her prey, she had a few options. She could pull herself up one side of the pyramid like a mountain climber, and somersault down the other side. She could lie on her side and pull herself around the base with her claws as fast as possible. As far as I could tell, the rule was that she had to make a full round of the base this way before she was allowed to continue her chase.
Simply jumping over, or running around, the obstacle was never an option. Where's the fun in that, right?
I've always found it fascinating how her tiny little brain was able to create these complicated scenarios, all for the sake of fun. She had to commit to the game reality 100%, believing that the stakes were high and worth her full effort. Kind of amazing, really.
One of my goals for the new year (yeah, it's a little early, but I already mentioned how I like to plan ahead) is to become more Fred-like. Love the game, commit totally, play as though the stakes always really matter. A good life philosophy, I think.