Cats. I love cats, but they sure are tempermental. Here's the latest drama with Ocho, our little tabby.
I let Olivia use Ocho for Show & Tell. With the teacher's permission, my parents assisted by bringing the cat to school during the middle of the day when this event occurs, walked the crate into the room, and then took the cat back home, so it was only a quick disruption in programming for the cat's otherwise day full of sleeping, eating, and being true to her predatory instincts by lying down and watching the birds peck at her leftover food.
The kids loved it. Twenty three kindergartners fell upon this cat immediately. Twenty three children: That's 46 hands all over this cat's body. She protested, but my parent say she took it like a man.
When I came home, the cat complained at me all evening. No, really. She mewoed at me non-stop for the rest of the day. I told her she was starting to sound like a nag. We've known each other for nine years, Ocho and I. I think I have a sense of who she is.
Olivia, by the way, loved it. It made her very popular with her friends.
Shortly thereafter, the cat peed on my laundry, I believe to express displeasure. I suppose you could say she pissed because she was pissed off.
Ocho lives on the porch because she has a peeing problem, and this is the best compromise I can think of without giving her away. I'm into forever homes for pets. I've blogged about it before- she knows how to open the screen door. If we forgot to lock it, she lets herself in.
She has let herself in numerous times in the past several years and has not peed in the house. However, she made it a point to urinate in a place I'd find it this time.
I got home and started pulling out pieces of clean clothing to fold and put away. It started smelling bad, like rotting death. The smell got stronger as I poked through the clothes. I was confused, and then I figured it out.
I pieced it together based on a report that she had been inside all day, and historical pattern, and understanding her vindictive proclivity. I sometimes consider her more of a housemate than a pet that I own.
We ran the clothing through the laundry three more times to get the smell out. It's really poetic irony for the cat to choose to soil freshly-cleaned clothes. It's a statement. It's like, You wanted this clean? I'll show you who's boss. (I'm glad she ruined something I can easily wash, than furniture or carpet.)
I dunno. Maybe I'm just anthrpomorphisizing, and she had nothing truly devious in her small cat brain. Maybe it was just, Bladder full, will pee where I'm standing... Oh, yeah, that's good. OK, onto my next cat task of finding a sleeping spot.
I didn't bother scolding her so many hours after the crime. I will note that Show & Tell is probably not her favorite activity, though.