I am not too proud to admit that my life is now controlled by two four-legged terrorists. Boo, my three year old black cat, has fairly easy demands. She is fed often, brushed twenty strokes every morning at the bathroom sink before I am allowed to moisturize, gets Kong when she has an overly stressful day, pet only on her terms and plenty of play time. As she has anxiety that causes her to over-groom, we also make sure that she has food and things that cater to this. She has Royal Canin Calm Kitty food, Calm Kitty treats and a diffuser that is supposed to help. Aside from this, we always have at least three of her favorite cat nip mice on hand as well as extra batteries for her laser pointer. Oh, and two scratching posts with cat nip at all times. It seems like a lot, but who could say no to this girl?
Demanding as she is, Boo is not my problem child. Shortly after my Sassy Britches passed in late December I began having trouble sleeping. I missed my cuddle kitty. I met a cute tuxedo cat at Petsmart and fought my husband until she came home. We named her Maude the Moo due to her coloring. Little did we know…
Maude is all things adorable and sweet, but she has an evil side that makes her attack her sister in play and disembowel stuffies. I try to find cheap stuffed animals for her because even with me sewing holes every evening, they only last about a week before they are too disgusting. Before tearing limbs off her favorite toys she likes to groom them. You heard that right. Let me tell you, fake fur is not meant to be groomed. It’s bizarre, but manageable.
What I have issue with is her insatiable appetite. We feed her 1/4 cup scoop kibble for breakfast and 1/4 cup in the evenings- we have taken to splitting this in two parts so she gets some right before bed or no one gets any sleep. She’s as vocal as she is insatiable. She also gets her treat toy filled with kibble sometimes, Kong on hard days, dental treats, and now we offer her a choice of pumpkin, butternut squash or sweet potato to hold her over in between.
The girl was five pounds when she came to us! You would think this would satisfy, yes? No. She launched the first battle of World War C (When cats attack). While we were gone she decided to forage through our shelves in the kitchen and help herself. She at the remainder of a bag of deluxe mixed nuts, a bag of freeze dried strawberries and was half way through a pack of Top Ramen before my husband found her. We took her to the vet, she’s fine. All snacks and bagged or boxed food went into totes after that. Checkmate…. or it ought to have been.
Last night in her search for extra food she knocked over a jar of peanut saute sauce. I got up and cleaned that up after I checked her paws for glass. Then she did the unforgivable. The furry terrorist went after my k-cups, chewing through a hot chocolate pod before the noise made me wake up. WTF man, is nothing sacred!?! First thing this morning I launched my counter attack. There is a poster board taped to the side of the shelving units.
Along with this all my k-cups and fixings are in totes now. Game. On. I mean it was bad enough when she would open the empty pizza box and lick the cardboard. We even started putting it behind the trash can. She pulled it out and opened it like a tent, laid on her back and went to town. When she heard me enter the kitchen she rolled over and froze. I was furious, but not enough to keep from getting a picture of her BS first.
Who would have thought that this cutie could cause so much trouble?
Do you guys have stuff like this going on? Any pointers?