Psycho Kitty Qu'est Que C'est
It's been nearly two weeks since we opened the door to let in Sleater-Kitty and I am here to report, she is a true and honest CREATURE OF THE STREETS. She is INSANE.
Like all relationships, we are learning day to day what her emotional style is. So far, she isn't one for affection, unless you have just come home after 8 hours out in the world, or you are about to feed her, or she is actually eating. Otherwise, her attempts at emotional intimacy go something like this: Is that a hand stroking me? I must ATTACK IT IMMEDIATELY WITH MY TEETH AND CLAWS OF DEATH. Sometimes I'll sit down and she will get next to me to nap. Then the next thing I know, there is a cat sinking her teeth into my arm, getting even more WOUND UP, as I try to shake her free.
So far, I think she prefers Graham. He has a sort of dysfunctional I-hate-to-love-you dynamic going on with her. We'll be lying in bed, and she'll climb up to nap on his chest. She will look adorable and sleepy and Graham will greet her and say, "Oh, you're so cute. I just want to love you..." and then he'll go to stroke her, and she'll like it maybe ONCE and then remember: There's a hand stroking me, I must KILL KILL KILL. And Graham will get all angry and wounded, and say things like, "Why aren't you NICE?" a few minutes later, they're back at it like two love struck amnesiacs.
Occasionally, she'll give us clues to her mysterious history. I woke up in the middle of the night to find her in a trance, kneeding my shoulder and sucking on the blanket. She was in such a state of catatonic bliss, her crazy yellow eyes were nearly wall-eyed. Also, the other night, I peeled open a can of refried beans and she went BAZERK. She must have thought it was a huge can of Fancy Feast, the way she went on in the cat equivilent of "Hey! Hey! Hey! You gonna give me some of that? You gonna give me some of that?"
Also, she starts going nuts around 5:00am every morning. We have to feed her and lock her out of our bedroom. We'll wake up to her discreetly knocking things over, or doing flips in my studio with all the paper. This morning she woke us up by getting under the bed and sharpening her claws on the entire bottom of the mattress.
Graham and I have also decided that had we lived with her for a couple of days BEFORE naming her, we might have riffed on OTHER band names. The Poo Fighter or maybe the Poo-Gee, might have been better. Let's just say, the cat is REGULAR as a day in the office is LONG.
Even though she's pretty much made herself known as a freeloader, a spaz, and an overachieving poop machine, I kind of get a real kick at of her. I love hearing her meow when I am unlocking the door. I love being able to pick her up for 30 seconds upon entering and feel her purr and lean in on me. I also like it how she loves hiding behind my canvases in my studio, to pounce on me as I walk by. She also thinks the giant roll of paper is the Disneyland for cats. They should start an amusemnt park for cats called PAPERLAND. I don't understand the mysterious relationship of cats and paper, but it's SO INVOLVED. There's sleeping, tearing, hiding, attacking, and skidding. You name it, the cat and paper have done it!
No one can say she doesn't have a personality. That alone, makes her my kind of cat.
Like all relationships, we are learning day to day what her emotional style is. So far, she isn't one for affection, unless you have just come home after 8 hours out in the world, or you are about to feed her, or she is actually eating. Otherwise, her attempts at emotional intimacy go something like this: Is that a hand stroking me? I must ATTACK IT IMMEDIATELY WITH MY TEETH AND CLAWS OF DEATH. Sometimes I'll sit down and she will get next to me to nap. Then the next thing I know, there is a cat sinking her teeth into my arm, getting even more WOUND UP, as I try to shake her free.
So far, I think she prefers Graham. He has a sort of dysfunctional I-hate-to-love-you dynamic going on with her. We'll be lying in bed, and she'll climb up to nap on his chest. She will look adorable and sleepy and Graham will greet her and say, "Oh, you're so cute. I just want to love you..." and then he'll go to stroke her, and she'll like it maybe ONCE and then remember: There's a hand stroking me, I must KILL KILL KILL. And Graham will get all angry and wounded, and say things like, "Why aren't you NICE?" a few minutes later, they're back at it like two love struck amnesiacs.
Occasionally, she'll give us clues to her mysterious history. I woke up in the middle of the night to find her in a trance, kneeding my shoulder and sucking on the blanket. She was in such a state of catatonic bliss, her crazy yellow eyes were nearly wall-eyed. Also, the other night, I peeled open a can of refried beans and she went BAZERK. She must have thought it was a huge can of Fancy Feast, the way she went on in the cat equivilent of "Hey! Hey! Hey! You gonna give me some of that? You gonna give me some of that?"
Also, she starts going nuts around 5:00am every morning. We have to feed her and lock her out of our bedroom. We'll wake up to her discreetly knocking things over, or doing flips in my studio with all the paper. This morning she woke us up by getting under the bed and sharpening her claws on the entire bottom of the mattress.
Graham and I have also decided that had we lived with her for a couple of days BEFORE naming her, we might have riffed on OTHER band names. The Poo Fighter or maybe the Poo-Gee, might have been better. Let's just say, the cat is REGULAR as a day in the office is LONG.
Even though she's pretty much made herself known as a freeloader, a spaz, and an overachieving poop machine, I kind of get a real kick at of her. I love hearing her meow when I am unlocking the door. I love being able to pick her up for 30 seconds upon entering and feel her purr and lean in on me. I also like it how she loves hiding behind my canvases in my studio, to pounce on me as I walk by. She also thinks the giant roll of paper is the Disneyland for cats. They should start an amusemnt park for cats called PAPERLAND. I don't understand the mysterious relationship of cats and paper, but it's SO INVOLVED. There's sleeping, tearing, hiding, attacking, and skidding. You name it, the cat and paper have done it!
No one can say she doesn't have a personality. That alone, makes her my kind of cat.
posted by Summer Pierre at
1:04 PM
2 Comments:
Oh, I remember those nights when the cats had free access to our bedroom ... whilst not quite intend on killing US they certainly were intend on killing something, which they then faithfully brought into our bed in the middle of the night ... half dead spiders, birds in shock, slimy earthworm who were still wiggling despite being torn into three pieces ... the KILL was obviously to take place in our bed, as an attribute of their love for us, or so they say!
This is a the first time that we have indoor cats and so far they still have to prove themselves as being worthy of staying in our bedroom over night. Luckily they don't scratch or bite, but having a cat jump onto your head and rubbing its wet nose into your face whilst purring like a maniac is not exactly helping me sleep.
I am glad your cat found you; a loving home is just what she needs.
P.S. I tagged you, hope you don't mind, I don't think you have done this one yet; it's a short and fun meme.
Sleater-Kitty. Te He!
Don
Post a Comment
<< Home