It’s a lovely sunny day. What could be more perfect that stretching out a deliciously warm plastic garden table, with not a cloud in the sky and next door’s dog safely secured beyond the fence. Ah, it’s so glorious that you might roll from side to side, even right over on to your back, to soak up the warmth and express your pleasure at the whole arrangement. Back and forth, stretch and arch then suddenly – gzt – crackle – gzt – a sharp sensation up through your paws, coming from where? Gzt – crackle – quick, get off the table, is it covered with biting insects?
Ah, poor Tabbyjit, I guess no one ever explained to you that fur + plastic + rubbing motion = static electricity!