We had a milestone of sorts today. I had to show the old woman I just do not like to be picked up. I clawed her good and proper.
It was her own fault really, I said for her to put me down, and she just wasn’t quick enough. I let her have both sets. Of my claws, that is. She’ll have four scars!
And you wouldn’t believe the blood! She stood for an age at the kitchen counter putting on that horrible stuff she calls tea tree antiseptic. I hate it! And then bandaids galore.
She was so silent, I got bored and thought I might as well catch up on washing myself. It’s never ending.
I wonder what she’s cooking up in that silence, something that will show me that she now knows her place, I hope.
Look at what she has me eating from … she said we have this already and it’s lying around unused … cheaper than buying a special cat mystery tray for $20 …
Tonight, the first time ever, I finally understood what the old woman wanted me to do when she said, “Come on! Come on!” in that high voice she uses to encourage me to do something good.
Just recently she started watching Jackson Jupiter, or some such name, to get a few clues about what we were trying to do.
Training she calls it. I don’t see the use yet. But as I said today I played along. I came. I walked beside her and every four or five human paces she gave me a kibble and patted and stroked my back and said, “Good girl! Good girl!”
Whatever, you know? Just keep the kibbles coming. We went twice up and down the house and then I swung into the den, stood waiting for my supper. The other half of the kibbles that means.
How many days has it been that she gave me a kibble just for looking at her? About a month worth of days.
Anyway, the training is worth it from my end. I just picked up 24 more kibbles than if I’d been stubborn and ignored her entreaties.
This is me on a day when it is sweltering outside and we have the aircon going inside.
Usually I can convince the old woman to turn off the TV by about 8.30, for a game or ten involving me getting kibbles for prizes.
We’ve given up on the eggbox, I’m happy to say. Yesterday she tied that horrible furry snake onto the end of a red wheeled thing that she dragged behind her, trying to get me to follow it and get the kibbles loaded onto the tray.
I soon showed her what I thought about that game …
So that night ended with her, after much cajoling, offering me kibbles by ones and twos first on her bare feet (not so scary) then on her knees, then on her hands (scary!) Though I did manage to eat more than half my bedtime snack.
Today was completely disrupted. The two wild human young came while their owner went shopping. The old woman spread the craft sheet over the floor and everybody cut things, glued, taped, then they went to the sink and floated a boat. All this while I hid under the couch.
After their owner fetched the young humans, the old woman tidied the room and rolled up the craft sheet. She’s always saying things like … Now then Moggy-mine, what mystery will we work on today?
Today she hid seven kibbles in the rolled up craft sheet. And after I found them she put in another lot. I don’t mind this game … I think it can lead to greater things. Imagine if she hid a handful?
(This is 29 seconds of me finding eight or ten kibbles. Ttoo long for you?)
We’re both sitting on the couch now waiting for the bedtime alarm. Well, she shuts me in the den then, whatever she does for the nect hour.
I started to scratch the couch to get her attention, it’s 8 PM, I need my playtime and she just keeps sitting watching her TV, why wouldn’t I try to get her attention?
And she sprays me in the face?!
I ran! Around the corner, into the corridor. Stayed there five minutes.
When I came out she’s still sitting there!
She invited me to sit on her lap?
So I line up to give the other couch arm a scratch.
She said, “Ahh!” In a hard nasty voice and showed me the spray bottle.
Now I’m sitting in the middle of the room. Not looking at her.
We have a new thing in the garden. Ha ha, bet I tricked you there. It’s irony, of course. Of course you didn’t know cats do irony. I assure you I have no difficulty woth it.
Any way, the new thing. The boy brought it. I think he’s trying to soften me up.
After the man and the boy and the prancing foal-child left, the old woman brought the new thing inside. Set it on a dessert plate and on the home-made kindergarten chair.
Rita de Heer 