Turns out lucky bamboo doesn't survive a kitteh's savage play, after all. It just takes a long time to die. First it turns yellow and then it starts to shrivel and eventually, it develops nasty black spots.
It's also entirely possible this has less to do with the kitteh's play and more to do with me claiming I haven't killed my lucky bamboo plants. Call it life, God, the Force, synchronicity, or even shakabuku if you prefer, but it often works that way. Especially in my family. My older brother virtually can't open his mouth without being proven false within moments. I once caught a fly using barbecue tongs, and I suspect the final crowning moment is due in very large part to the fact that he told me, a heartbeat before, "You'll never catch it."
Sorry 'bout that, little (un)lucky bamboo.