posted by Evi on Apr 22
No, this is not about a new Phillipa Gregory novel; actually it’s about Smoochie Cat and me. Whoever said cats were stupid is the one who should have his or her head examined. Smoochie Cat is one smart cat and throughout the years has trained me well.
We won’t go into the obvious things about cleaning out litter boxes or having a bowl of food and fresh water set out before him. That’s normal protocol. I mean actual training where I have learned to read his body language and the various nuances in his meows.
HIS MAJESTY
Ever since he was a kitten he started my training. He would leap on to the kitchen table (where he wasn’t allowed – and he knew that all too well) and would wait for me to start yelling at him. He’d stand there staring at me until I got up off the sofa then he’d bolt and I would chase him. I caught him once or twice and either took a swat at him or grabbed him and threw him in the bathroom for a timeout. He learned pretty quickly to evade capture and would then run under the table and chairs where I couldn’t reach him. This, of course, became a game for him so every time I sat down on the sofa he’d hop back up on the table. This went on and on until one of us (usually me) tired of the game.
Then I figured since I couldn’t catch him I’d buy a water pistol and squirt him with it when he’d escape under the table. Well, believe it or not, this cat loved the water pistol. I’d squirt him, he’d drink the water I squirted, then tap the pistol for more. Oka-a-a-y, so that didn’t work. I finally gave up trying to chase him (actually I couldn’t deal with the stress anymore) and he eventually tired of the game and stayed off the kitchen table.
Then, one day while I was running the bathroom faucet, he decided he wanted to drink from it and, like a fool, I let him. To this day, the little bastard still wants water from the faucet. His water dish is his absolute last resort. He’ll head toward the bathroom door, peering over his shoulder at me every few steps. (This, I found out means, “well what are you waiting for, let’s move it!” in cat talk.) If I don’t follow him immediately into the bathroom he’ll jump up on the vanity and throw a cat tantrum. Did you ever hear one of those? It pretty embarrassing when we have company and he starts in. I have to run to the bathroom and turn on the faucet in order to shut him up. Of course, this doesn’t sit too well with my husband and sometimes I have to choose whom to obey. Usually Smoochie Cat wins out because he can be more disruptive than Bill.
To be continued . . .
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