This morning I overheard some commotion outside. First I heard clapping, then I heard shuffling, then I heard footsteps running up the stairs. Looking down from my second story window, I saw horrible cat, standing in the neighbors walkway. As I continued to watch, I heard my sweet, mid-aged neighbor, whom i don't know well -- but judging by the beauty of their yard and the mess of ours, I doubt they have a very favorable impression of us -- saying "Shoo! Shoo!"
As she was gesturing him away, he only moved closer, scaring the poor woman. I'm not sure what he does in their yard, but I must admit I was amused, yet totally embarrassed by the sight.
Fearing that she may still be out back as I left for work, I went out the front.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
"My Cat from Hell"
The new Animal Planet show has me considering a call to Jackson Galaxy. The show follows him to homes where cats are, well, horrible. Jackson, a cat behaviorist looks at the situation and tells the owners what they can do to make their cat less awful. In the first episode, the cat was apparently acting out (scratching, biting, being awful) because he'd been neutered years ago and still felt powerless. To pump up the animal's self esteem, Jackson recommends allowing the cat on the shelves (what?!) and playing with him more. Allowing him on the shelves will grant him the power he's been yearning for by being able to "look down" on the humans. I get a remedy of play, though to be fair, I thought letting the cat outside would be enough stimulation.
But to allow the cat on the shelves? While I want a pet to be happy and comfortable, I don't exactly want him running the house -- especially since he's not my cat. I know he already jumps on the table when we're not looking (don't get me started on how gross that is) -- so I'm pretty sure horrible cat's self-esteem isn't tanking. Sure he's been neutered, but he should be used to that, and relieved that he's not reproducing.
I guess I'll have to keep tuning in to "My Cat from Hell" see if there is a cat that behaves like horrible cat or maybe I could find a way to get Jackson to come over...
But to allow the cat on the shelves? While I want a pet to be happy and comfortable, I don't exactly want him running the house -- especially since he's not my cat. I know he already jumps on the table when we're not looking (don't get me started on how gross that is) -- so I'm pretty sure horrible cat's self-esteem isn't tanking. Sure he's been neutered, but he should be used to that, and relieved that he's not reproducing.
I guess I'll have to keep tuning in to "My Cat from Hell" see if there is a cat that behaves like horrible cat or maybe I could find a way to get Jackson to come over...
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
ok, fine, be bad.. . now!
I didn't have a chance to fit my sun salutations in yesterday morning, so I ended up doing them at night, after work. It just so happened that my roommate was around as well, and seeing how we live in a small town house, we both were in the living room -- her working on her computer, and me stretching out. Of course this meant horrible cat wanted to be in the living room as well.
Have you ever made a doctors appointment for an ailment, but can't get in until the next day? Not that you'd ever want to continue feeling sick, but there's always that desire that you want your symptoms will continue until your appointment to warrant the hassle of visiting the doctor and the copay of the office visit. I felt that way about horrible cat as I prepared to stretch out. Not that I want him to bother me, but I would have liked my roommate to have seen first hand the terror he regularly puts me through.
I rolled out my mat and he jumped onto it. There!
"Horrible cat," I sighed, hoping it would get her attention. She didn't look up. After he scratched the mat, and I brushed his away, she glanced up. To see him rubbing against my hand.
"Awww how sweet, he wants to do yoga with you!" she exclaimed.
Yea, real sweet. I laughed it off, then began my routine.
Horrible cat sat 2 inches from my mat through the first half of my routine. Not close enough to warrant serious annoyance, but close enough to keep me on my toes, ready for his attack. Then it came. I felt a tail on my leg, then a little twinge, as his claw dug into my one foot on the ground, as the other was folded half way up my leg into tree pose.
"Ouch!" I said, without thinking of whether or not my roommate would notice notice. The surprise of his claw and my exclamation forced me to abruptly put my other foot down. Of course this caused horrible cat to skedaddle to the other side of the room.
"You ok?" She said absentmindedly, not looking up.
Not wanting to seem like I was making a big deal out of it, I casually said, "it seems horrible cat mistook my foot for a scratching post."
"Really? But he's in the dining room. I'm sure he was just playing. Maybe you stepped on something? Let's let him out." She said in an effort to appease what I'm sure she thought was my over-reacting.
She got up and let him out. And he stayed outside, without banging on the door, or meowing, or anything else he does when it's just the two of us. Go figure.
Have you ever made a doctors appointment for an ailment, but can't get in until the next day? Not that you'd ever want to continue feeling sick, but there's always that desire that you want your symptoms will continue until your appointment to warrant the hassle of visiting the doctor and the copay of the office visit. I felt that way about horrible cat as I prepared to stretch out. Not that I want him to bother me, but I would have liked my roommate to have seen first hand the terror he regularly puts me through.
I rolled out my mat and he jumped onto it. There!
"Horrible cat," I sighed, hoping it would get her attention. She didn't look up. After he scratched the mat, and I brushed his away, she glanced up. To see him rubbing against my hand.
"Awww how sweet, he wants to do yoga with you!" she exclaimed.
Yea, real sweet. I laughed it off, then began my routine.
Horrible cat sat 2 inches from my mat through the first half of my routine. Not close enough to warrant serious annoyance, but close enough to keep me on my toes, ready for his attack. Then it came. I felt a tail on my leg, then a little twinge, as his claw dug into my one foot on the ground, as the other was folded half way up my leg into tree pose.
"Ouch!" I said, without thinking of whether or not my roommate would notice notice. The surprise of his claw and my exclamation forced me to abruptly put my other foot down. Of course this caused horrible cat to skedaddle to the other side of the room.
"You ok?" She said absentmindedly, not looking up.
Not wanting to seem like I was making a big deal out of it, I casually said, "it seems horrible cat mistook my foot for a scratching post."
"Really? But he's in the dining room. I'm sure he was just playing. Maybe you stepped on something? Let's let him out." She said in an effort to appease what I'm sure she thought was my over-reacting.
She got up and let him out. And he stayed outside, without banging on the door, or meowing, or anything else he does when it's just the two of us. Go figure.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Back to Reality
On Friday I came back from a 5 day cruise with my girlfriends in the Caribbean. It was a completely relaxing and wonderful time, and I was enjoying my vacation buzz on the way home from the airport. As I walked in the door though, i immediately felt the tell-tale signs of anxiety raise within me. It didn't make sense, I'd been home for 5 minutes and was on a serious vacation high. I tried to brush it off, but what I ended up brushing was cat fur, off the sofa I wanted to sit on. I got up to get a snack, and noticed some mouse poop on the floor, mice that the cat is responsible for (at least partially because of his food) -- and can't even get rid of. And a smell.
Every house has a smell, some are stronger than others, but when you've been away for a while, you can sorta smell your smell. And mine smelled like cat. Everything cat. Cat food, cat pee, just ugh. Grossness. My relaxation bubble popped before I even unpacked.
This morning I went for a run and pondered how this cat has so much control over me. Why does he bother me so much? How does he have a way of raising my blood pressure in a way that it has never risen around anything else before? I'm not an angry person, but I feel incredible anger towards this cat. I'll ignore it, or the annoyances will die down, but I swear, I'm losing atleast a couple months off my life from the stress he causes me. My blood pressure rises at the sight or smell of him. Then it struck me, if I could afford it, I would go to therapy. Maybe theres a latent anger I never dealt with that he's bringing out in me.
I can't afford therapy so I decided to administer some self therapy. I tried to think of the top things it was about him that bother me. This is what I came up with:
His unruly mane that sheds EVERYWHERE.
His constant smell of alley, waste and just cat.
His habit of peeing in random corners every couple weeks. (Which contributes to the smell)
The fact that he scratches me on a regular basis.
When his shedding gets really crazy, I get allergic and have trouble breathing.
When I looked at it that way, it seemed pretty easy to hate him. After some introspection, I realized none of those things really sound like I have a problem. But maybe I could come up with a couple solutions? Maybe my avoidance of solutions have something to do with my subconscious? I thought of three things: Improving his hygiene (regular nail trims, brushing, and if possible baths). Keeping the house immaculate at all times to detect peeing and prevent it. Taking allergy pills year-long -- so that I can brush and bath him without irritation.
I don't think I can do all of that, but I'll try to keep the floors cleaner and enlist my roommate -- who owns the darn thing -- to help. And who knows, if I'm feeling crazy I'll brush him a couple times a week. It's still up to my roomie to trim his nails, but those little things might help make him a little less gross.
I'm also investing in air freshener.
Every house has a smell, some are stronger than others, but when you've been away for a while, you can sorta smell your smell. And mine smelled like cat. Everything cat. Cat food, cat pee, just ugh. Grossness. My relaxation bubble popped before I even unpacked.
This morning I went for a run and pondered how this cat has so much control over me. Why does he bother me so much? How does he have a way of raising my blood pressure in a way that it has never risen around anything else before? I'm not an angry person, but I feel incredible anger towards this cat. I'll ignore it, or the annoyances will die down, but I swear, I'm losing atleast a couple months off my life from the stress he causes me. My blood pressure rises at the sight or smell of him. Then it struck me, if I could afford it, I would go to therapy. Maybe theres a latent anger I never dealt with that he's bringing out in me.
I can't afford therapy so I decided to administer some self therapy. I tried to think of the top things it was about him that bother me. This is what I came up with:
His unruly mane that sheds EVERYWHERE.
His constant smell of alley, waste and just cat.
His habit of peeing in random corners every couple weeks. (Which contributes to the smell)
The fact that he scratches me on a regular basis.
When his shedding gets really crazy, I get allergic and have trouble breathing.
When I looked at it that way, it seemed pretty easy to hate him. After some introspection, I realized none of those things really sound like I have a problem. But maybe I could come up with a couple solutions? Maybe my avoidance of solutions have something to do with my subconscious? I thought of three things: Improving his hygiene (regular nail trims, brushing, and if possible baths). Keeping the house immaculate at all times to detect peeing and prevent it. Taking allergy pills year-long -- so that I can brush and bath him without irritation.
I don't think I can do all of that, but I'll try to keep the floors cleaner and enlist my roommate -- who owns the darn thing -- to help. And who knows, if I'm feeling crazy I'll brush him a couple times a week. It's still up to my roomie to trim his nails, but those little things might help make him a little less gross.
I'm also investing in air freshener.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The little things
It's the little things in life that matter. Like a sweet piece of candy after a satisfying meal. Or a cool pillow to lay your head upon.
In the case of the horrible cat, life would be better if he didn't come with "little things."
I've gotten over the disgust of picking up a scarf off the floor only to discover the scarf also picked up a clump of fur while it was in the cat's turf. I've moved past the annoyance of stepping on a piece of the cat's food -- which he'll take from his bowl, then spit out on the floor so that he nibble on it, inevitably leaving pebble size crumbs that are prime for stepping on. But the one thing I wont get over is the kitty litter, which somehow, makes it's way all over the house.
Somehow, little pieces stowaway on feet, fur, or something else, to end up everywhere. I woke up this morning, and as my feet met the floor, they also met a little white piece of litter. How, I would like to ask, does litter end up in my room, when the cat isn't even allowed in?
I did some thinking and realize it must have come from my roommate, who came into my room last night to chat. She had been putting clothes away in her room, and was wearing slippers. When I went into her room this morning, sure enough, there was a collection of litter that the cat has flung out of the litter box, all around the floor near her closet. It made enough sense that she would walk on it, some would get picked up, and be carried into my room.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I vacuumed her floor for her. Than I vacuumed mine, and was dismayed to find that what I thought was old paint spots that had dripped onto the floor, turned out to be more stowaway kitty litter. I even vacuumed the hallway. Once this was done, I took a shower and got ready for the day. I went into her room to look in her mirror (it's more flattering than mine). The cat happened to be in the litter box while I was in there. He was doing his thing, and just as I turned to walk out, I glanced back one more time at him. He looked squarely at me, then dug his paw into the litter and flung a little bit out onto the floor I'd just vacuumed.
Life would be so much better with horrible cat sans the little things.
In the case of the horrible cat, life would be better if he didn't come with "little things."
I've gotten over the disgust of picking up a scarf off the floor only to discover the scarf also picked up a clump of fur while it was in the cat's turf. I've moved past the annoyance of stepping on a piece of the cat's food -- which he'll take from his bowl, then spit out on the floor so that he nibble on it, inevitably leaving pebble size crumbs that are prime for stepping on. But the one thing I wont get over is the kitty litter, which somehow, makes it's way all over the house.
Somehow, little pieces stowaway on feet, fur, or something else, to end up everywhere. I woke up this morning, and as my feet met the floor, they also met a little white piece of litter. How, I would like to ask, does litter end up in my room, when the cat isn't even allowed in?
I did some thinking and realize it must have come from my roommate, who came into my room last night to chat. She had been putting clothes away in her room, and was wearing slippers. When I went into her room this morning, sure enough, there was a collection of litter that the cat has flung out of the litter box, all around the floor near her closet. It made enough sense that she would walk on it, some would get picked up, and be carried into my room.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I vacuumed her floor for her. Than I vacuumed mine, and was dismayed to find that what I thought was old paint spots that had dripped onto the floor, turned out to be more stowaway kitty litter. I even vacuumed the hallway. Once this was done, I took a shower and got ready for the day. I went into her room to look in her mirror (it's more flattering than mine). The cat happened to be in the litter box while I was in there. He was doing his thing, and just as I turned to walk out, I glanced back one more time at him. He looked squarely at me, then dug his paw into the litter and flung a little bit out onto the floor I'd just vacuumed.
Life would be so much better with horrible cat sans the little things.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Rewind
Over the past couple weeks, I've softened towards the insidious beast that I share a roof with. But over the past couple days, he's begun to test my patience at formal levels of annoyance.
First I came home yesterday, and found he's spilled all of his cat food around the mat. This is annoying on a couple levels. One, it's a pain to clean up. Two, I like to walk around barefoot and the little pieces of food get stuck to my feet, which is painful, and obnoxious. And three, we still have mice, and I reckon that they enjoy this spillage as much as I hate it -- since it makes it reasonably easy for them to scurry out, grab a kibble, and take it back to their hole in the wall.
Second, I had to wake up early today, and instead of giving me a precious extra half hour of sleep, horrible cat insisted on scratching at my door starting at 6am. When I got up, he insisted on following me around and meowing. I got him his food, but he wouldn't be quiet. I'm sure he just wants attention, but at 6:30 in the morning he's definitely annoying.
First I came home yesterday, and found he's spilled all of his cat food around the mat. This is annoying on a couple levels. One, it's a pain to clean up. Two, I like to walk around barefoot and the little pieces of food get stuck to my feet, which is painful, and obnoxious. And three, we still have mice, and I reckon that they enjoy this spillage as much as I hate it -- since it makes it reasonably easy for them to scurry out, grab a kibble, and take it back to their hole in the wall.
Second, I had to wake up early today, and instead of giving me a precious extra half hour of sleep, horrible cat insisted on scratching at my door starting at 6am. When I got up, he insisted on following me around and meowing. I got him his food, but he wouldn't be quiet. I'm sure he just wants attention, but at 6:30 in the morning he's definitely annoying.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Horrible cat, horrible habits
Ever since horrible cat has been home, he's been much more mellow. Admittedly, he still is on meds. His crazy hour has also slightly shifted with the time (or chemical) change, so he hasn't been as obnoxious in the mornings. He still runs around like a nut, but it usually doesn't start until I'm already put together -- so it's not nearly as distracting.
He did trip me up on my way out the door as he tried to sneak outside, but I don't really think that was a deliberate sabotage attempt -- he just wanted to visit his friends in the alley. (But until he's off his meds completely, he can't go out unsupervised.) To be honest, it's a little weird not to be annoyed with him.
Though he is a total remote-hog.
He did trip me up on my way out the door as he tried to sneak outside, but I don't really think that was a deliberate sabotage attempt -- he just wanted to visit his friends in the alley. (But until he's off his meds completely, he can't go out unsupervised.) To be honest, it's a little weird not to be annoyed with him.
Though he is a total remote-hog.
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