My Cat: Too Smart for Her Own Good

 Cat Tales, General  Comments Off on My Cat: Too Smart for Her Own Good
Mar 162012
 

This morning Alpha Geek and I were watching the news, as we are wont to do. I like to check the weather forecast and see if the sproggen or I should wear raincoats. I think Alpha Geek mostly just likes to listen to the white noise while he’s achieving consciousness.

Suddenly, from the kitchen, came a series of strident meows. It was unmistakably the sound of a cat in distress. I thought Duchess had managed to get herself trapped in a cupboard—lately she’s been getting adventurous and climbing new things, not always successfully. I hurried into the kitchen to see what was wrong.

She was fine. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking expectantly up at me. Not trapped, no injuries.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked. She beamed at me. I petted her a bit and went back to the living room.

Five or ten minutes later, the penny dropped. I went to check her water dish: empty.

Every other cat I’ve known, when they were out of water, has tried to lead me to its (empty) water dish.

This cat was trying to lead me to the kitchen sink, because she knows that’s where I fill her water dish. I just wasn’t getting it.

 Posted by at 5:36 pm  Tagged with:

Cat Harassment

 Breeder's Corner, Cat Tales, General  Comments Off on Cat Harassment
Aug 122011
 

When we first brought Duchess home, she was a jumpy, timid creature. Naturally any cat is going to be nervous in a new environment, but I’d never known one who was so alarmed by everything. If someone stood up too fast, she would bolt into the basement. If Alpha Geek or the Artist stood up at all, she would bolt for the basement—she was fine as long as they were sitting, but when they stood up they were just so appallingly tall it freaked her out. If we moved too fast, or made a loud noise, she would bolt for the basement.

Often Alpha Geek cannot resist pushing someone’s buttons, including hers. When he took off his shoes, he would take a sock and lob it gently in her direction. She would bolt for the basement.

My younger son, the Director, is energetic (to say the least). These days it’s fashionable to say that such a person has ADHD, but the Director really does; he’s been diagnosed and we’ve done a lot of work with schools and shrinks to help him learn to control his impulsive behavior. (Turns out ADHD, like Asperger’s Syndrome, is a form of high-functioning autism. This is what happens when geeks breed.)

The Director is rarely still. He usually runs everywhere. He’s prone to abrupt, unpredictable bursts of motion and noise.

Nonetheless, he is the one that our nervous, jumpy cat chose to be Her Person.

If anyone else ran towards her, she would—you guessed it—bolt for the basement. If the Director ran towards her, she would get up to meet him. If anyone else picks her up, she struggles mightily; she hates to be picked up. If the Director picks her up, she will complain but won’t struggle. When the kid is in school, she looks for him when it’s time for him to get home.

Alpha Geek has trouble fathoming this attachment. The kid will sit on the floor and pester the cat. He’ll roll her over from one side to the other. He’ll pick her up and put her on his lap, and when she climbs off he’ll pick her up again. Finally Alpha Geek will say, “Leave the cat alone.”

So the Director will get up and leave. And Duchess will get up and follow.

Because ultimately the reason they have such a close bond is that they understand each other. They’re both complete and utter attention whores.

Nowadays she’s not nearly so nervous, either. She comes to greet us when we get home, and will also come check out strangers (as long as they don’t come in the front door). She’s no longer alarmed by the two tall men walking past. If Alpha Geek lobs a sock at her, she will step to the side just far enough to avoid it, then give him an “Oh, please” look worthy of any teenager.

Not only has she settled in, she has become queen of the house. Just as I predicted.

Bear