(I don't think she learned it from me and Cersei. We live on the second floor, so I hardly ever throw The Ball inside for Cers. Our downstairs neighbor is almost deaf but a 65 lb dog crashing around chasing a ball is pushing it!)
She will periodically go find the bat and bring it to one of us and drop it. We are expected to throw it until she no longer brings it - that means she's tired and wants to take a nap, thank you. Jabber is the most fun of all the cats, and she's probably the most fun cat I've ever had. Getting her was one of those "good idea at the time!" stupid decisions.
I hang out in a vaguely pet-oriented IRC channel. (Sara, if you can/want to connect to IRC at work, come to #petisland!) Over the summer, when I was studying for the bar, my daily routine was this:
Wake up between 8-10 am. Make a big pot of iced coffee and study until 4 or 5. Take Cersei to the dog park and throw The Ball for an hour. Head home, cook something that fulfilled my daily caloric intake, and drink myself into a stupor while talking on IRC. Repeat the next day.
I think you can see the problem here. I was on IRC all the time, and I was drunk most nights, and drunk people agree to foolish things. My friend in Arkansas took pity on the pregnant stray and let her come in the house to have kittens... and couldn't find good homes for the kittens... and I agreed to take ANOTHER FUCKING CAT! What was I thinking? I already had two extremely strange cats. I needed another one like I needed a hole in my head.
But I couldn't just back out. One more cat is just an incremental cost. Going from no cats to one cat is a huge change in lifestyle, but adding another one isn't too hard. So I got the kitten... and she's adorable. Fetchcat is just the latest stupidly cute thing she does.
I am now super extra vigilant to never agree to anything while drinking.