...warm puppy. No, affectionate lap kitty. No, both?
Cat #3 made it to the vet about a week after the ordeal. Then for the next week he played the part of Mr. Aloof. In the mean time, female kitty decided the house was her domain, to the point where she would sit in the big pecan tree in the front yard every afternoon waiting for my truck, when she would dart around the house and in the back door as I walked in the house, preferably before Cat #3 also realized I was home.
Obviously this has led to some jealousy on the part of the dog. Female kitty's routine generally involves lengthy lap-time and cuddling. Even had a few mornings where she would sneak in as the dog went out so she could get some quality one-on-one time. If both the dog & cat are vying for my affections, the cat stakes out my lap while the dog sits at my feet with that pleading look in her eyes. If the cat strays from my lap to sniff at the dog, there's a good chance she may get nipped by the dog attempting to dethrone the cat's position - literally.
Or at least that's how things worked until about two weeks ago. Then I spent several very late nights at work, so by the time I would get home the cats would already be into their nighttime routine and a very desperate crossed-legged dog would barrel through anything in her path as she made a mad dash to her preferred potty spot.
The world has been righted some time in the last few days. I've come home to find all three cats lounging on the back porch or in the garden. All three affectionately rubbing up on the dog as she makes her rounds in the yard. But it took a pretty good thunderstorm tonight for female kitty to take up her post by the back door waiting for her opportunity to sneak in the house. And seize she did. She made a straight line to my spot on the sofa, and quickly took her place in my lap purring and face-marking as if she hadn't seen me in a month. Jealous dog joined in, wet nosing my arm and trying to nip at kitty's ears - hard to do for a short-legged old girl. I barely had the invite cross my lips and the dog popped up on the sofa and nestled in by my thigh so she was practically cheek-to-cheek with kitty and occupying as much of my field of view as possible.
As soon as kitty took off to patrol the kitchen and get a few laps from the dog's water bowl, the dog took off in hot pursuit of the interloper. Now both are curled up in their preferred corners fast asleep, which is what I would like to do myself but first I need to disturb a sleeping cat and kick her back out into the cruel, stormy world. Hell hath no fury like a cat who believes she belongs indoors.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
Training cats?
Maybe I need to rename the blog.
Two of the three barn cats made it to the vet for their annual check up and shots today. Yes, I have some rather well cared for barn kitties, and so far their vet bills exceed the horse's this year (knock on wood).
Why not all three? Believe me, they were all scheduled to go. I even borrowed an extra carrier from a coworker. My grand plan was to shove the boys in together in the big carrier and put the female in the other since she has been growling at both lately, including her litter-mate. I came home from lunch to find the boys lounging on the back porch and the girl hanging out on the front porch. Grab Boy One, put him in the crate, close door, yowling begins. Grab Boy Two, open carrier, and attempt to shove him in as Boy One makes his exit. It was a rather impressive feat of feline acrobatics since I had put the carrier on end so the door was on top and the cats were basically getting dropped in. My real mistake was that I was doing all of this in the horses' wash bay rather than inside the tack room or other enclosed space where escape meant they were still somewhat confined.
In all the fur-flying confusion, coupled with a few claw swipes and hissing, both boys retreated to the porch. Both were lounging again, so I went for Boy Two first, but he figured out what was happening and eluded my lunge. Grabbed Boy One without trouble, put him back in the crate, close the door fast. Retrieved The Girl from the front porch and threw her in with her brother. I tried catching Boy Two a few more times, tracking him through the hay shed and pasture but he managed to retreat into the woods. When he took off through the poison ivy I figured it was time to cut my losses and head off to the vet with the two I did have. I called the vet's office on the way to let them know a) I'm running late and b) I only have two felines in tow. The office manager asked if I would like to reschedule for a day I could bring in all three but I declined. If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, I figured two cats in a crate were worth three on the lam.
Returning home, the two good kitties were released and I spotted the escape artist crouched in the pasture. Even after a few hours of decompression, Boy Two won't let me approach him in the pasture. I figure he will come around in time, but in the mean time I'm trying a little behavioral conditioning so the crate is not so scary when I do finally get him caught. So I'm trying to channel my inner Jackson Galaxy (if you don't catch the reference, start watching Animal Planet on Saturday nights). In an effort to help the cats make the connection between the crate and something good, the big crate is up on the counter in the feed room where the cats are normally fed, and Boy Two's food bowl is inside with plenty of room to eat. I know he's found it because I heard the door rattle and saw him dart back out the barn aisle earlier this evening. I'll probably have to pull the other food bowl at some point so all three cats have to eat inside, but since they generally "graze" in shifts I'm hoping it won't be much of a problem.
Fingers crossed.
Two of the three barn cats made it to the vet for their annual check up and shots today. Yes, I have some rather well cared for barn kitties, and so far their vet bills exceed the horse's this year (knock on wood).
Why not all three? Believe me, they were all scheduled to go. I even borrowed an extra carrier from a coworker. My grand plan was to shove the boys in together in the big carrier and put the female in the other since she has been growling at both lately, including her litter-mate. I came home from lunch to find the boys lounging on the back porch and the girl hanging out on the front porch. Grab Boy One, put him in the crate, close door, yowling begins. Grab Boy Two, open carrier, and attempt to shove him in as Boy One makes his exit. It was a rather impressive feat of feline acrobatics since I had put the carrier on end so the door was on top and the cats were basically getting dropped in. My real mistake was that I was doing all of this in the horses' wash bay rather than inside the tack room or other enclosed space where escape meant they were still somewhat confined.
In all the fur-flying confusion, coupled with a few claw swipes and hissing, both boys retreated to the porch. Both were lounging again, so I went for Boy Two first, but he figured out what was happening and eluded my lunge. Grabbed Boy One without trouble, put him back in the crate, close the door fast. Retrieved The Girl from the front porch and threw her in with her brother. I tried catching Boy Two a few more times, tracking him through the hay shed and pasture but he managed to retreat into the woods. When he took off through the poison ivy I figured it was time to cut my losses and head off to the vet with the two I did have. I called the vet's office on the way to let them know a) I'm running late and b) I only have two felines in tow. The office manager asked if I would like to reschedule for a day I could bring in all three but I declined. If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, I figured two cats in a crate were worth three on the lam.
Returning home, the two good kitties were released and I spotted the escape artist crouched in the pasture. Even after a few hours of decompression, Boy Two won't let me approach him in the pasture. I figure he will come around in time, but in the mean time I'm trying a little behavioral conditioning so the crate is not so scary when I do finally get him caught. So I'm trying to channel my inner Jackson Galaxy (if you don't catch the reference, start watching Animal Planet on Saturday nights). In an effort to help the cats make the connection between the crate and something good, the big crate is up on the counter in the feed room where the cats are normally fed, and Boy Two's food bowl is inside with plenty of room to eat. I know he's found it because I heard the door rattle and saw him dart back out the barn aisle earlier this evening. I'll probably have to pull the other food bowl at some point so all three cats have to eat inside, but since they generally "graze" in shifts I'm hoping it won't be much of a problem.
Fingers crossed.
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