rhonwynalyna

After spending all day Friday and all night until 5:30 AM working on a recalcitrant costume, I packed up and went to an event a state over leaving my beloved cats and dog alone for the day. This was the first time Teeny had been left alone for a very extended period. And unbeknownst to me, well, she considers my dining room table her own. Silly me. I had left various pieces of fabric on top of her domain and expected them to stay there until my return in the condition and place where I had left them.

While I didn’t truly notice much of anything upon returning last night. I was in that too tired to be observant mode that too little sleep will do to you, once I got up this morning I found the pieces of her discontent all over the floor of the living and dining rooms. She, probably with the help of Cleo, had taken tiny pieces of cloth and dispersed them all over my apartment. I am STILL in the process of finding tiny pieces of fabric under the couch, in the foyer, beneath the piano, by the TV, etc. She evidently was quite picky in what she considered “keepable” fabric. Because the larger pieces were condensed and shifted around to create a “bed” of sorts for her majesty. Everything else that was “unworthy” had been pushed off the table.

When I walked over to pet her “Good Morning” she lifted her head, then turned around and presented me with her tail, and walked off. Silly kitty. It wasn’t until I started unloading food back into the fridge that she realized that maybe the “Cut Direct” was not the way to treat this human and wandered over to inspect the items being put out of her reach into that cold box. That I put the leftover KFC chicky into it, too, did not please her. She decided to climb up my leg with her gorgeous eyes and ask nicely to please let her have a piece BEFORE it was put away.

Buddy just looked at her antics, placed his head on his paws and rolled his eyes. He knows me well enough to know that once the fridge is open, it all goes inside. Cleo looked at Teeny, walked over to look in the fridge and wandered off. To date, Cleo has found nothing in the fridge that interests her. She is SO not into human food.

For any who wonder why this is starting in the middle, Kitten Wars was started on my Facebook account. I will be continuing it here and possibly combining the two into a cohesive unit at some later date.

6/27/14

I may have adopted an older cat into my household. For those of you who have pets, you know that introducing a new animal can be stressful for all parties until the newest member either joins in with the group or is found a new home. In this case, I am still on the fence. She is a very sweet cat who is 12 years old who was a single pet. Her owner died a while back and her current caretakers needed a new place for her to stay.

Upon entering my apartment, she came out of her carrier, sat on laps, and enjoyed being petted. When Buddy put the Big Buddy NOSE in her face, she did as any cat would do, Teeny slapped it. But being the lady that she is, she restrained from using her claws. She didn’t even hiss. Buddy refrained from getting near her after that. His feelings were very hurt. After all, he has just about raised Cleo, Teeny is only a tiny bit larger than Cleo so, in his mind, is still a baby.

After a few minutes, she left the lap of the person she loved and wandered around on the couch until she began to knead on the couch pillows, making herself at home. She walked on the end table and almost jumped on the piano. Later that night, she wandered around my bedroom and even took a nap with me then jumped to my desk to investigate it when I fired up the computer. I thought all was well.

The next morning, Teeny was nowhere to be found. I searched all over the apartment going so far as to load extra things into storage to make sure I wasn’t missing any areas. The new addition to our family had disappeared in the dark and no one had a clue where she was. Granted if they did, Buddy and Cleo were definitely not talking. Then I looked over and saw Cleo lying down in the middle of the hallway. Slowly she raised her head and gave a very soft almost lazy hiss without moving from her position. Accompanying that, I saw a ball of grey tabby fluff scoot around into the kitchen and out of sight again. I sighed in relief at the thought that at least she was still in the apartment.

She remained hidden for the rest of that day and into the next. When I returned with Buddy from his walk the next morning, Teeny had left a message loud and clear in the middle of the carpet. She absolutely refused to share the litter box. As I bent over to pick it up, I heard a yowl, hiss, and spit come from under the couch. Coming closer, I looked to the corner where the night stand was and saw her perched beneath it. She was not arched, but rather lying there baring her teeth at me. The super sweet kitty had disappeared and we were into psycho kitty for the next few days including when I tried to feed her. Every time anyone came within about 5 feet of her, Teeny’s eyes went wide and the show of absolute aggression began all over again.

Finally, she and I had a come to Jesus meeting where she began to understand that in my house cats do not use such poor behavior and language. She kicked, spat, and tried to bite me during our talk, but no harm was done. Instead, I picked her up and carted her to the guest bathroom where she could hiss and complain at her surroundings to her heart’s content. I showed her where the food was and she knocked it to the floor. With that, I decided to let her have her fit alone. No audience was necessary. With my son gone, there wasn’t a thing in there other than the towels for her to damage. There also was not a person or animal for her to hurt.

I brought her food, water, and a new litter box to find her curled up in the sink. She was happy curled up into a ball there. I had company coming in so I let her be while she calmed herself. When I decided that she had calmed down enough, she and I spoke some more and I opened the bathroom door into my son’s room where she would have free reign between the two rooms to decide that we were OK people. I pet her, scratched her chin, but left her where she wanted to be, in the sink. Later on, she wandered over into his room and laid down behind the futon. My guest spent a great deal of time talking with her as did I. Each time progress was made and she began purring and reaching for the pets she wanted. After a while, she made her way to resting on the futon. She has now chosen to reside on it as her throne and the sweet kitty that I met has returned. I’m giving her a few days of quiet to regain her equilibrium and to become adjusted to the scents of Buddy and Cleo before I open the doors to my son’s room permanently to see if this kitty will integrate gracefully into my family. I truly hope she does.