Why is the cat climbing the walls?

28 July 2024

1123

R. Linda:

What do you do with a wired cat? I mean, a cat that drinks espresso coffee? I noticed strange behaviour yesterday on the cat's part and didn't overthink it because the strangeness was gone by the afternoon. However, it happened again this morning, and I couldn't help but notice. Mam's cat, barely out of kittenhood, is a personality in the house. He jumps at the dog, cat-dances around all arched-backed, then dashes at the dog's legs and runs off. The dog is sweet-tempered and would not dream of hurting the cat. I don't know how he contains that sweet temper because if it were me, I'd be snapping and chasing that cat all over the house. But I digress, and that is not the problem.

When I had Mr. Kits, he had a thing for catnip. That boy would indulge in the stuff anytime and any place. If we didn't give him his fix, he'd get it off the shelf and work on it until he had it dumped all over the floor. He'd be zonked for days (see Zoned, Zonked, Out Of It, OR Mr. Kits Has A Hell Of A Night! 14 April 2012). 

This guy, Mr. Indy Jones, whips up on the dog and the people in the house. He uses his tail to whip you with it until you look down and see him looking up at you, waiting for cat treats. Yes, he's a cat-treat junkie. Forget the catnip; he likes it, but those Temptation chicken-flavoured cat treats are the cat's meow, excuse the pun. Well named, yes, he is. He also thinks he is a dog. He stands on his hind legs to beg for treats, wags his tail when he sees you and rolls on his back so you'll rub his belly. Do you need me to go on? He's a character he is. If you rub a cat's belly, you will have tooth and claw stuck in your hand, but not Mr. Jones! He rolls around like a dog, and it is all for treats!

But besides that usual behaviour, he started rubbing up against the walls, making little mewing noises to get you to notice him, and if you lean down to pet him, he rolls around on the floor like, "Look at cutey pie me! Now give me a treat!" And if that does nothing, he whips you with his tail, and as soon as you lean down, he's off and running around the room, up the furniture, over the table, and down the other side and back again. Made me dizzy just watching him.

I had just taken the last coffee and was in the kitchen where the treats live. I offered a treat, and he smelled it, turned up his nose and looked at me like, "Nope, that's not what I want." Then he zoomed off like he remembered he should be someplace else. I couldn't figure out what he wanted, and in a few moments, he was back. He started cuffing my shins. When that didn't work, he got his tail to whip me in the shins and ankles. When that didn't work, he attacked my ankles with teeth and claws. Not hard, but enough to get my attention, which he already had. I left him for my office and closed the door. He sat outside the glass door, staring at me as I sipped my coffee until he finally gave up and went away. That left me thinking he was deranged, and we were just finding this out.

Just an hour ago, I decided to speak to Mam about this. I went into the kitchen, and she was chatting with Tonya, who was brewing them both macchiatos (yes, Mam got a Nespresso machine, and now you know who I take after). I asked for one too because I am a coffee hound, as you know. Anyway, the cat was under Tonya's feet meowing (I thought for treats), and Ton was having a time sidestepping so as not to step on Mr. Indy. 

She made one coffee and was making another when Mam had taken hers and put it on the hassock in the TV room to cool off a little. Look at this freshly made beauty.

Mam's Macchiato

As we were all at the kitchen counter awaiting the rest of the macchiatos, I noticed that the cat noise had dropped off, and the cat was gone. It took a little bit to make two more macchiatos, but it was well worth it. Tonya and I adjourned to the TV room to find this with its head in the glass.

It WAS a full cup

 "Ye noe I haf been wonderin' why I seem to haf a cup the size of an espresso. I could swear I had a full cuppa when I poot it doon, an' when I coom back fer it to be cooled, I haf jus' a lil bit."

"Now you know," I said. And Mr. Jones? He just looked at us like he wanted us to leave so he could finish Mam's macchiato.

Doesn't he look insulted? Or, more like he's saying WHAT?

We know why he gets so energised now. He likes the frothy milk, and I guess he likes the coffee mixed in with it, too! So now we froth extra milk for him. I know he shouldn't have it, so it be a treat on occasion. I hope he can live with that because Mam wants her full cuppa.

Gabe

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