After we got Lucy, our older cat, Penelope died. This left a big cat hole in our family. It was technically my turn to pick the next cat. At the time, I wasn't sure I wanted any more cats because whenever we traveled, we left them and it made me feel bad.
In lieu of explaining this to Tracey, I declared, "I only want an orange Maine Coon cat. That's it; no other kind of cat." I gestured with my arms crossed and spread them wide, using the universal "no way" gesture. I was sure an orange Maine Coon was rare and not so easy to find; therefore, I would get some time to figure myself out.
Tracey found one the next day. She showed me the picture when we got home from school. There he was, My sweet Milo, looking straight into the camera. He's a good looking guy. We called the rescue organization and they convinced us that one kitten was a BAD idea.
"One kitten is a recipe for trouble. Cats are nocturnal - who are they going to play and mess with if there's no other cat around?" the rescue spokeswoman asked me. I fell for it. I did not want to get woken up by sharp kitten claws and teeth.
"Is Milo bonded to any other cat?" Tracey asked.
"Yes, there is a white Angora kitten here that he is attached to. They spend a lot of time together." she responded.
That weekend we had a home visit planned for the kittens and the foster mother to check out our house and set up. We had a conversation with Lucy, who was about 6 months at that point.
"Look - be on your best behavior - no chasing!" I warned. We kept her on a leash.
When the volunteer opened the cat carrier, Milo waited for Tibby to come out first. Tibby is the undisputed leader of the pets in our house. She is vocal; you never have to wonder if Tibby agrees with what you're doing. When we came home from the movies one afternoon, it was Tibby swinging from the curtains. Milo hadn't worked up the courage to climb them yet. It was Tibby who got stuck at the top of the sliding screen door every night over the summer; and it was Tibby who climbed onto the book shelves to try to sleep behind all the breakables.
Milo often gave away her whereabouts by sitting under where she was, looking at her and meowing. When she sneaks into the bathroom without you noticing and you accidentally close her in - Milo stands outside the door scratching and meowing until we let her out.
None of my pets are allowed in the kitchen when I am preparing their food. I don't want them under foot. My cats wait in the dining room until I give them the release word to come in. (Lucy won't come near the kitchen; she does NOT want to get in trouble) Milo, mostly, waits on the rug, sitting and watching. Tibby circles like a shark; waiting for me to turn my back or lose focus. Then she tries to dart into the kitchen. I usually growl at her or make the universal "Ah Ah!" noise and she stops and runs. They have both learned the trick "Walk away." which means turn around and literally - walk away.
They can both play the shell game, and are seriously good at it. They can "touch" things on command. Which is a good command for focus. (I'm not allowed to teach them to turn the lights on and off)
One night when I was scrolling on my phone, I came across a video of two cats wearing hats, ringing a bell for a treats. I'm still not sure what the hats had to do with anything, maybe entertainment value?
"My cats can do that!" I exclaimed. "No problem!"
Tibby and Milo ring bells for treats. I taught them using the clicker. The command is "Ding" and a point. After they ring the bell, I click the clicker, which is the signal that they have done what I wanted and that a treat is coming. They make it very clear that the treats don't come fast enough. They will ring the bell faster and harder and and stare at me. We're working on a jazzy version of "Jingle Bells".
They do not wear hats while they perform. I hate the hats; I think they make the cats look like aliens.
No comments:
Post a Comment