This morning, I padded down the stairs to find my plumptious and jowly ginger cat Charlie, sitting fatly by the cat flap, staring fixedly. At first I thought his mate Mrs Robinson might be walking brazenly round the garden. (She is a blowsy cat, who if she were human would have bleached hair, high heeled mules and say 'cock' a lot. As it is, she often pops in for breakfast and a quick sniff of Charlie's bum) But no - Charlie was looking at his sister Lola, having a wee. Lola looked up once or twice and flattened her ears as if to say: "What are you looking at perve?" but Charlie just carried on looking. Literally a Peeping Tom!
Well he's going to be a Peeping Spayed by the weekend. This latest act of feline weirdness is only the latest in a series of hissings, squabbles and catty fist fights between the two of them. They used to curl up together! Now they can't walk past each other without aiming a furry punch. Off to the vet on Friday. Only nobody is allowed to mention it because the last time they had to get some injections, they just sort of knew. I don't know why, but the second I opened the cupboard where the cat baskets are kept, they both streaked upstairs and hid under the bed! Anyone got any tips?
6 comments:
Perhaps Charlie was only checking that there weren't any perverts near his darling sister at a moment of vulnerability. And he's going to lose his man bits (I suppose they should be called his tom-cat bits) because of it! How unfair!
But, of course, I could have got it all wrong...
Food in the box?
Put them in while asleep?
My cat loathes his cat box too as he is terrified of the vet!
My dogs were grouchy little buggers with each other before we had their bits seen to. Husband has never forgiven me, though, and that was almost 10 years ago. I guess it's a man thing.
I can only suggest food in the cat box. BUT when I've tried to get my cat in hers it's a disaster no matter what. I've started putting her treats in a sort of cat igloo type thing to get her used to the idea of going INTO something and getting a treat for it. In about 4 years' time I shall try swapping it for the cat box. Yes, I'm THAT convinced it'll work. Not.
I've whopped you with a thingy. Can't remember what it's called. That's it: a photo tag, if you have time.
Be careful! My husband is on antibiotics because one of our kittens hated the idea of the vet so much she bit his hand through to the bone when he tried to pick her up. The vet took huge delight in giving him a list of all the fatal conditions you can get from a cat bite. Apparently she uses welder's gauntlets when she has to pick up a cat.
Oh my God! And there was me thinking the worst thing that could happen was me passing out from the cat's fish breath. I have taken note . . . Penny
Ha. I was bitten on the wrist a few years ago, by one of my cats (I currently have four), the late and much lamented Timmy who was a Siamese cross and almost feral: within hours my right arm had swollen to twice its size all the way up to my shoulder. I was told I had cellulitis (a skin infection) and given antibiotics but they didn't work; I was then told I needed to be admitted to hospital and given IV antibiotics or I might have to have my whole arm amputated to stop the spread of the infection. I told the doctors not to be so silly, made them give me enough antibiotics to drop an elephant, and within a few hours all was well.
But yes: if your cats hate their cat boxes you can do two things: always feed them inside those cat boxes; and spray Felifriend around the boxes, too: it's a synthetic cat hormone which relaxes them. The cats will eat eventually, and it makes the whole vet thing MUCH easier (I know, I took all four of my somewhat oversensitive previously-abused and much-adored rescue cats to the vet last week for their innoculations: three are Siamese, and can barely walk in a straight line without getting offended about something while the fourth is a Ragdoll who thinks he's a dog).
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