I was once told: “One cat is good. Two cats is best”. This is so true it should be a rule, an ordinance, a law (the criminologist in me ain’t dead yet!). It should be illegal to only own one cat, since it is damaging to ones’ psychological wellbeing. The second cat should even be reimbursed by medical insurance companies.
Let me explain.
We had three Floofs. They were a lot of work, but they would play together and be cats. No need for much human interaction to pass time. Then we found them families, but Kodi came back to us. Kodi is now an only child. Or more exactly the youngest of the siblings, the “love child”, the one you hadn’t planned on, but ooops, here he is, and we love him dearly. Most of the time. Sometimes. Sometimes not!
He’s a horrible adorable little thing. He’s a pain playful. He’s so needy affectionate. He does under no circumstances respects his sisters’ boundaries and territory.
He gets into everything. He devoured 3 slices of bread straight out of the bag, mistakenly left on the kitchen counter at night. I bought catnip mice at Kroger and didn’t get a chance to give them to him, he scrambled his way into the bag and stole them. Later he was snooping in the bag I brought back from Hobby Lobby and got a sticker stuck on his nose. It didn’t bother him one bit. He pranced around with a sales tag on his face. And because I am a bad cat mom, instead of taking it off, I took a picture of him. He’s for sale, and he’s on sale, already tagged and ready to go! (just kidding!)
3 am. He’s pouncing on me. I grab the spray bottle and aim for his butt. I miss. I spray the books across the room instead. I am now wide awake, wiping water off the dust jackets while he jumps around clawing at the (brand new but now old looking) fluffy comforter. Thanks cat…
He won’t sleep next to me. He sleeps on me, preferably on my face. He does not just nestle on my shoulder like all the other kittens we have raised, or simply use my neck as a pillow. He plants his (smelly) behind on my face and tries to suck my eyeballs out while “making biscuits” on my cheeks. He tries to give me a hair cut by chewing on my hair when I am asleep. He has no concept of personal space at night. He needs to be exactly where I am. We have a king size bed. It’s huge. There is room for everybody on there. But no. His spot is on my face. Until I get up, and then:
A couple of nights ago, I grabbed my pillow and moved into the guest room, since the door can be locked. Kodi sat in front of that door and sang me the meow of his people. For 2 hours straight.
I am telling you, he’s one bad pussy cat!
I adore him!