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.
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