Picking Up Apricot

Since I discovered how to pick up Apricot in a way that doesn't scare him, I've been practicing. I don't, obviously, have pictures of me carrying him, since that would involve me being in two places at the same time.

Here's a lovely closeup I got of him, instead. Technically the picture is upside down but I think it looks better this way!

Look at those lovely green eyes!

Anyway, over the weekend I've been randomly picking him up, holding him and petting him while he's being held, and then carefully putting him back down again. He's still a little weirded out by the whole process, but he's getting used to it. It's nice I can pet him while I'm holding him. If he was bigger, I'd need both arms to support his weight, but since he's such a little kitty, I can support him with one arm and pet him with the other hand. And he does so love to be petted.

In fact, this afternoon when I was making hard cooked eggs, he was curious as to the sound from the stovetop. The pan with the boiling water in it was making noises, and he was curious and wanted to know what it was. Let me repeat that one more time. He was curious. He wasn't frightened or scared.

Well, I don't want him on the counters specifically because of the top of the stove being one of those that's smooth and isn't any different than the rest of the counters. Except that the top of the stove will get hot, and then not look any different, and if a kitty is used to being on the counters, how would he know to stay off that one area and only at certain times? It's safer in the long run to forbid counters.

But Apricot was looking up, wanting to see, and contemplating the long jump. So I asked him if he wanted to be picked up so he could see, because he wasn't supposed to get up there by himself. I didn't actually wait for an answer. "Do you want to be picked up? Do you want me to pick you up? Shall I pick you up?" is what I've been saying before picking him up most of the time, because I'm trying to get him to connect the words "pick up" and the action: thus I can pick him up without startling him because he knows what's coming.

And I picked him up, and let him look at the pot on the stove, and explained that the pot was making noise because the water inside was boiling, and then put him back down. Curiosity satisfied, he sat down and wanted petted (which is usually the case if I'm standing anywhere close) and after petting he wandered off into the living room in search of a toy.

Do I think he understood my explanation? Of course not. What he did understand was that I knew what was making the noise, and I was okay with it, and I was letting him know he could be okay with it. Since for the past three weeks I've been telling him about stuff and letting him know if it's okay, mildly scary, or "you might want to hide," he's slowly learning that he can trust me when I sound blase about something. 

Yesterday I got out the vacuum and just did the bedroom and the high traffic areas. This included part of the living room. While he was still in it. He was in his cubby hole, which has turned into a sleeping spot and a hide-from-noises spot, rather than a constant lookout. He stayed in the cubby hole, watching me and the vacuum quite closely. I'd told him and showed him when I got it out that I was going to make horrible noises again, and he was safe but it was going to sound awfully scary.

I was very proud of him for staying in the cubby hole and not running away from the vacuum cleaner! 

He even got so bold this weekend that one time that he ambushed me. Not that it was a very close ambush, and he rather stopped and waited to see what I was going to do, instead of the more typical ambush behavior of running away at high speed, laughing maniacally. (Pippin never did this because of his vision, but Pizza and Tiger both did, and Max did although Max used teeth. Pizza and Tiger did it the way Apricot did it; they come out of nowhere, pat my leg, and take off, well, except Apricot didn't do the 'take off' part.)

I was debating whether to discourage this behavior or not, but decided as long as he kept teeth and claws out of it, a drive-by grab was okay. So I just let myself giggle at him, and say "You startled me!" (because he had, and it showed; I'd jumped!). He hasn't ambushed me since, but he seemed to think this was an okay response. 

Not all is roses, however; he's developed a weird fixation with a spot on my comforter. It's actually a whole "line"; the comforter has two ribbon-like things several inches away from either side that allow a person who likes stuff precise, like me, to balance the comforter between the edges of the bed so an equal amount hangs down on either side. I have no idea why they are there other than it lets you make the bed look neater! 

But this is something he's decided to attack, although not while I'm sleeping, thank goodness. I sprayed it with citrus smell today, and we shall see if that discourages him (most cats don't like citrus). At least he's going back up on the bed again? I can't decide if that's a good thing, given the attacking of my comforter.

And he didn't get the zooms again till today (Sunday). He had them Wednesday and Thursday, but when I came home Friday he seemed oddly subdued. I think perhaps something happened outside the house that day that scared him. It took a while and some petting before he wanted to do anything other than being petted.

He loves being petted but it rapidly escalates into playfulness when he's in a good mood, and I have learned the signs. I've been telling him my hands aren't toys, and if he wants to bite something, bite a toy. He's actually gotten the concept behind "no, not me, go play with your toys" because today when I said that, he got up and went into the living room in search of a toy. My house looks like a strange sort of toddler lives here--there are cat toys all over the living room floor!

Giving him toys to chew on works most of the time.
This is the butterfly toy that crinkles and up until today,
was a source of wariness and not a toy to bite.

I keep handing him a toy to chew on whenever we are in the living room and he goes playful on me. Luckily there are so many that there is usually one within reach, and it no longer scares him when I sprawl out to grab one. 

Back to picking him up: I have even taken two steps twice when holding him. This is very alarming to him and he wants down almost immediately (thus only two steps). It doesn't help that my ankles have creaked alarmingly both times! 

But it wasn't so long ago that he went all stiff and resistant cat when I picked him up and just stood there with him. I get impatient, and I need to remember slow and steady has been working just fine so far. And if I'm slow and steady, he races ahead of me in expected development, which is nice. 

I did complain to my friends that it was very frustrating being around Apricot, because he looks so very cuddly and hold-able, and I can't cuddle him yet. I had to hug my friend's cat last night in a cuddle hug to kind of tide me over. Pumpkin just kind of half put up with it, half enjoyed it, which was generous of him. I'm not his person, after all.

Apricot is currently on the look-out perch of the cat tree with the cubby hole in it. He is napping because I played with him and Da Bird for fifteen minutes and got him all tired out. Yes, I learn too. If I want to write a blog post about him, I need to wear him out first, otherwise he nags for playtime.

It's really nice having a cat around the house again. I did sort of want either two kittens (to play with each other) or one older cat (which Apricot was supposed to be) who wasn't so playful, but this works, and it's good practice for the kittens this winter. Maybe we'll both build up our stamina till we can play with the kittens without getting exhausted so quickly. 

Apricot Discovers the Joys of Physical Exercise

And by that I mean he has the zooms, badly. Yesterday he spent a great deal of time zooming from one end of the house to the other. I could hear him go up the cat tree at the one end and see him go by me in the living room into the kitchen.

This is quite amazing. He's also gotten increasingly athletic with his toys, tossing them in the air and pouncing on them. I didn't know you could get in shape in such a short amount of time, but he seems determined to do so.

He has lost a lot of his pudge and now looks visibly more sleek, as well as now he has a roll of skin when I pet him over his shoulders where he's lost fat but the skin hasn't shrunk back. He doesn't seem to weigh any less, and he's eating quite heartily (dry food, anyway). I think he's turning fat into muscle, and since muscle takes up less space for the same weight of fat, he looks like he's lost weight when really he's just getting in shape.

Compare this picture, taken on the 17th:

pudge kitty

to this picture, taken yesterday on the 26th:

Not so much pudge now!

You can see the improvement! I guess he didn't move a lot in the shelter's cat room, just stayed on his shelf all the time.

He has taken to coming in and greeting me in the kitchen shortly after I turn off the alarm after I enter. Yesterday when I came home I saw him in the living room window sleeping in the cat tree there. His paws and legs were sticking straight out of the dip in the cup. He looked goofy, but he kind of scared me a little because he was so still. After a very long moment he moved, apparently feeling my eyes on him, and looked up and out the window.

There was an astonished expression on his face as he registered that I was standing on the sidewalk outside, with just a small landscaping area between us. He didn't realize I could be there. So I waved hi at him (I wave at him inside, too, so this isn't a new scary thing to do) and then came inside, much to his pleasure.

legs straight out is apparently a normal thing 

And with all the exercise he is doing, and all the boldness he is developing (a boldness still highly embroidered with caution), his meows are getting louder. Sigh. Including the "where are you" meows in the middle of the night, or more accurately, an hour before my alarm goes off this morning. He still sounds like a squeaky hinge, though.

I am being told that I should play with the cat instead of writing about him, so I shall go do that.

Braving the TV and Facing the World

Wednesday, June 25th, 2014

He keeps making progress by leaps and bounds. I was watching a tv episode, and heard him mewing outside in the hallway. So I called him, "you can come in if you want, Apricot" because saying "come on in" is taking on the force of a command, and I didn't want him to feel like he had to brave the tv making noises.

But he came in, and I paused the show, because I didn't want to scare him off before we even started. I've gotten him to come up on the couch with me while the tv was off, and I invited him up now, with the tv paused. He first went to investigate the movement he saw in the bookshelf doors (his own reflection) and then dismissed that and jumped up on the couch with me. I petted him for a bit, and then he left and walked out the door, seemingly of his own accord. It didn't look like he'd left because he was scared.

So I started the show up again. I have hopes that eventually he'll learn to ignore the tv and its noises, and just be on the couch beside me. He certainly seems to enjoy being with me, which is most flattering!

We also did front claw clipping this afternoon, which didn't go quite so well as last time. He kept pulling away the entire time, but not quite hard enough to pull his paw out of my hand. I got all front claws clipped except the dew claws. He was pulling so hard I couldn't get the leverage.

On the good side, he didn't run when I let go, and didn't seem scared or upset by the process, and he didn't offer violence or aggression on the other hand either.

I also tried picking him up again later. I tried something different this time.

Pippin always wanted to hide in my hair from the scary world, and I usually had him over my shoulder with his paws gripping my back. So I'd been picking up Apricot with his face towards me, although I didn't put him over my shoulder. Mostly because that would just be a little too much for me to handle, having an orange tabby kitty right there again.

But I remembered that at Br'er Coon, Mrs. McFadden had told me that Tank liked to be held so he was looking out at the world. So I thought perhaps Apricot wants to keep an eye on the world around him, to make sure nothing could jump out and scare him or attack him when he was in my arms and unable to run away.

So today I tried picking him up where he faced out. And he purred the entire time. I didn't move from where I was standing, and I put him down when I thought I heard him make the little lick-lick noise that means he's frightened. He was still purring though. And he didn't run away or jerk away when I put him on the floor, although he did kind of fall over and not take his weight back on his own four feet soon enough. Oddly enough, Max has this problem too, or had it when I had him. I think it's a consequence of not being picked up enough as a kitten, so they don't instinctively compensate.

Luckily for Apricot, Max had alerted me to the possibility of this happening, so I didn't actually let go until he had his feet under him and under control.

Before I congratulate myself, I must remember that purring does not necessarily mean the cat is happy; it can mean that the cat is trying to reassure themselves. But his body wasn't stiff and pushing away from me (and if you don't think a mere spine can push, you haven't held an uncooperative cat), and he didn't seem at all daunted by the hold.

In my pink room, getting petted.

He's also been really playful today, both with me and Da Bird, and by himself with his mouse toys. The tiny rattle mouse that Mrs. McFadden gave me is a great favorite now, and I had noticed how the size of it was more appropriate to him than the bigger stuffed toys, so Monday when I got groceries I got a set of three mice the same size but three different textures. He likes those, too, but the rattle mouse is still best. He can pick these up and toss them, and he can't do that with the bigger toys.

He even tossed one and then pounced on it, getting completely airborne in the process. With his chasing and pouncing on Da Bird, and the toy mice play, I am completely baffled that he doesn't get the whole "I toss the mouse and he chases it" concept. I've tried it multiple times with different toys, and he just doesn't get it. He falls over and looks at me with that look that says, "forget the toy. You're here. Pet me." It's like he's making up for a lifetime of not getting loved on, poor fellow. Or not allowing himself to be loved on because he was too scared.

Away All Day Again

Monday, June 23rd, 2014

All weekend, Apricot got used to having me around and made wonderful progress in getting comfortable with having a human walking and moving around him.

I wondered how he'd deal with Monday.

This morning: Well, I'm getting the idea he's not much of a morning cat. After I called his name a few times, randomly throughout my thirty minutes of lie-in-bed-and-slowly-wake-up, he came in, and attempted to jump up on the bed. But he missed; didn't jump high enough. So then he stalked out, all "I meant to do that" and grumpy.

He was in his cubby when I got up, and when I got back from my walk, so he got several drive-by pettings before I went to work.

When I got home I had groceries to put away, aside from my usual stuff, and I was doing that in the kitchen ... what do you think? Apricot walks in, calm as anything, into the kitchen with me there, and wants greeted and petted and played with!

As I distributed things throughout the house he accompanied me, often blocking my way in the effort to get pettings, which he got more and more often as my hands got emptier. And he led me into the tv room and wanted petted there, as if to say, "look, I'm not scared to be in here." And into the kitchen, and the bedroom, and all over the living room.

He started this thing he only did a few times before, where he kind of pounces and puts a soft paw around my leg and lets go. So I decided he needed played with and got out Da Bird and ran him all over the living room with it, and now he is calmer.

So I guess he missed me and didn't get scared of me in my absence, the way he'd been doing before. He'd be okay with me after a few seconds but would give me a wild-eyed look as I came up to him. Now, it's instant "hey, pet me!"

Now I'm wondering how we're going to deal with the lonely in the house problem until the kittens get here! This whole adjustment phase was supposed to take longer!

This is roughly the geographical center of the living room
He's claiming territory by lying out here in the open!

Tuesday, June 24th, 2014

It's a good thing I'm writing all this down. I had forgotten that it's only been since Saturday that he's been out and about. It seems like longer than that. I really have to watch where I walk now, because if I'm walking, chances are he's weaving back and forth in front of me. It's like my legs have a gravitational pull, because no matter which side he's on, he wants to be on the other side, and walks across in front to get there. And sometimes when I've been standing somewhere, like talking on the phone or making supper, he'll come by and rub against my leg with his body, kind of  an absent-minded furry sideways hug.

I don't think he's been under the headboard since before Friday afternoon. It's like he suddenly decided things were okay here and he could be anywhere he wanted without fear.

My Blu-ray has the option of a Digital Concert Hall, and twice now I've had that playing and tried to lure him into the tv room. The first time was Sunday night, and when the conductor's face was shown on the big screen, twice the size of a normal human head, Apricot was fascinated against his will. He even put his front paws up on the tv stand once to see closer. But it was too much and he had to leave after just a few minutes. Tonight I got him in there for longer, maybe half the first movement (five minutes or so, I'd say).

Just so as you know, "luring" him involves just saying "come on in, Apricot, come on" repeatedly with variations on the theme, and holding my hand out at petting height. That's all it takes. He'll even come when he's scared sometimes. I find this amazing. Pippin, of course, could not be lured, but that's because I helped him overcome his fears as a kitten, and as an adult he depended on my presence but not necessarily my touch. He liked to be petted, of course, but as a proper cat he felt it was my duty to come to him and pet him. I feel this is the proper cat way too, so Apricot's willingness to come when urged is rather surprising to me!

Apricot is spending more time in the kitchen with me, too. In fact today he came in to greet me when I came home from work before I even had a chance to take my shoes off. I thought he'd gotten used to the automatic trash can. Since it's a little trash can, a cat tail walking by can easily open it, and he'd done so several times.

Apparently I was wrong about that. I guess he was just ignoring it as another "house sound." Because today after supper he was sniffing at it. I'd put the empty plastic ziploc in there that had held the ham slices, and apparently it smelled good. He sniffed at it around one side and his tail arched over the motion sensor in the middle.

It opened. He leaped back, astonished. But, to my own astonishment, he prowled forward again, ready to investigate (cautiously, of course). Well, the thing does close after a while, perhaps 15 seconds? 30 seconds? I know it always closes on my hand when I'm peeling a hardcooked egg into the trashcan, so obviously it stays open shorter than the time it takes me to peel eggs ...

It closed. Again, the startled leap-back from Apricot. And again, he went to investigate it. This time he sniffed the middle where the motion sensor was, and when it opened, it bumped his nose on the way up. Well, that was just too much for Apricot, who jumped back (cleared the floor with all four feet at once!) and retreated resentfully into the living room, watching it.

The trashcan has a safety feature where if the lid hits something while opening, it stops opening and stays frozen and you have to re-set it by manually pushing the lid closed. So it didn't re-close the lid after Apricot opened it the last time.

He wasn't where he could see, but as I closed the lid I told him that he'd scared it more than it had scared him, because it wasn't even moving anymore. And he seems perfectly okay, no more skittish than before the incident. Perhaps he's getting the concept that things may seem to do stuff of their own accord but it's very limited stuff? I suppose this precludes getting him a remote controlled toy mouse, though ...

Remember Da Bird? Da Bird is very well received now. I took him on a journey through the house chasing it, which was a bit challenging in the space-restricted hallway! He will pounce on it with vigor now, instead of watching it carefully before putting out a cautious paw. I have even gotten a full-on run out of him, and once a leap into the air to try to catch it.

One thing that worried me was that he hadn't gone onto the bed since his ill-fated leap resulted in falling slowly off of it. I used Da Bird to lure him up onto it, and we shall see if this stayed in his brain long enough to counter the fear of falling off again.

Cat in a Cubby

June 21, 2014, Saturday morning

I get to stay home today! (Except for my normal Saturday stuff.) Last Saturday I went to Br'er Coon, and the Saturday before that I went to Apricot's shelter to meet him. I am so relieved I can stay home today. And I wondered how Apricot was going to react to all this.

He's getting to know that when the alarm goes off, I have to be awake, and thus will respond to inquiries. I don't remember him meowing last night, but this morning, right after the alarm went off the first time (the first time I'm allowed to snooze button it), I heard a determined, tiny mew from the floor at the side of the bed, on the hideyhole side.

This is the first time I've heard him meow when I'm actually awake. It appears to take some effort for him to get "loud" because compared to the asleep meows, I definitely heard this one, but it was still such a tiny mew for his size.

Making the noise one makes moving under covers, I leaned over the edge of the bed, rather expecting him to retreat to the hideyhole (it being so convenient and all) due to the covers noises. Nope, he was right there, sitting and waiting for me to tell him it was okay to come up on the bed. He used the stairs to get up on the bed as my head was in the way to jump up, even though I moved back to give him room.

And then he spent the time with me on the bed that I spend before the last alarm goes off (the one that means, get up now or you'll be late for work). I mostly played on the phone and he mostly hung out on the bed, sometimes against me, sometimes just washing or lying still. Very interesting behavior from little scared Apricot, I thought.

I went for my walk then. It's why I get up at the same time on the weekends that I do during the week. No, I don't have to go to work, but it gets too hot to walk later, and this way I don't have to change my alarms or mess with the clocks, and honestly, I do better with a consistent routine. So I get up and go for a walk at the same time seven days a week. Even though on Sunday I go back to bed afterwards.

When I got back in, I went to say hi to Apricot and the headboard hideyhole was empty. Huh? I checked behind the washer and dryer, even though they'd been running so the likelihood of him being there was low. This means I walked past him twice, because he was in the cubby of the cat tree in the living room! I knew he liked it last night!

The perfect spot

And this is the first time (barring hiding in the couch and behind the washer/dryer, which don't count because they were hiding places) that he's been anywhere other than the hideyhole when I come in the door. I am so pleased!

I was even more pleased because, ah ha, now I can at least vacuum the bedroom and spare my poor allergies. Taking the vacuum cleaner out of the closet where it lives in the middle of the house, I explained what it was and what I was going to do. He can see me there from the cubby so I wanted him to know what was going on. Then I took the vacuum cleaner into the bedroom, shut the door, and cleaned the bedroom.

Afterwards I went out into the living room to see what had transpired. He was still in the cubby but he was a little wide-eyed and scared. I eased into petting him, letting him sniff me first, and talked and petted till he relaxed. Then I closed myself into the pink room with the vacuum cleaner and made loud roaring noises, cleaned half the hallway up to the point where he might be barely able to see the vacuum, and into the purple room where I shut that door and cleaned the room.

The other side of the cubby,
after vacuuming ceased

He was still in the cubby when I finished all of this, again a little wide eyed and making the lick lick noises that Lynn says are scared noises. So I did more petting and reassuring. I haven't cleaned the living room (of course; I'm not crazy) but I have plans that the next time he goes into the hidey hole in the bedroom or even under the couch, I shall close the door, whip out the vacuum cleaner, and clean the living room.

And hopefully all of this will sink in, and Apricot will realize that the noise may be loud and scary, but nothing bad is happening to him or any of his stuff. I'm very careful to put his toys back where I moved them from if I have to vacuum underneath them. If he heard loud roaring noises and the toy bird disappeared, you can see how he might come to the wrong conclusion. Even if he found the bird somewhere else later.

After all of this I played on the computer at the computer desk (still in the living room) and while I did that, he eventually got down and roamed around some. Even going into the kitchen. I haven't yet followed him in there ... wonder what he does in there? I don't hear any bumps which would mean jumping on the counters ...

Later ... HA! He went into the bedroom and under the headboard for (apparently) an afternoon nap. I went in and explained I was going to vacuum the rest of the living room ("remember the loud roaring noise?") and if he didn't mind I was going to shut the door. And that is what I did. So now my house is all clean, and my allergies are grateful.

When I finished I put everything away and opened the bedroom door and told him that it was over for the next two weeks. As I was reassuring him that it was safe now, he came out from under the headboard (oops, hadn't meant to disturb his nap) so, since I was tired now, I asked if he wanted to go up on the bed (yes please, and up he went) and then I pulled the pillow out from under the covers (this action was looked upon askance but he didn't leave) and curled up on the bed next to him.

We cat-napped together. Eventually my hand ended up against his back, and then later he rolled over and my hand was against his chest. My eyes were closed and I was drifting so I was a bit startled when he suddenly wrapped his paws around my hand. I opened my eyes and his were tight-shut, his paws around my hand, fast asleep. Aw!

Sunday I got up, walked, and came back and went back to bed. This provoked quite some confusion from Apricot, who didn't want me to go back to bed and wanted played with. He mewed at me and milled around my feet (when I was on the floor). This is new.

When I woke up and went to find him, he was under the couch in the tv room. I think he may have gone there in a huff, honestly. He was completely under the side I didn't have reclined, and I couldn't reach any of him. So I reclined that side very slowly and very carefully, to give him plenty of time to move out of reach of the mechanisms. It worked; he moved into the center and then, since both sides were now open, he left completely.

But then he kind of settled down and wanted petted and stuff. This whole afternoon he's been very friendly. He's changed from the cat who left in a hurry if I was up and walking to a cat who keeps winding around between my feet when he wants something (usually for me to sit down and pet him).

I thought perhaps he'd be ready for some active play, and got out Da Bird. This is a rather expensive wand toy I bought in preparation for the kittens. It retracts and stores in a pouch, and has four guinea fowl feathers on the end of an elastic string. Da Bird was received with much enthusiasm. He chased it and occasionally, when I let it lie still on the floor long enough, even caught it. You're always supposed to let them "catch" the toy when you're going to put it away, to properly end the chase. Do you have any idea how hard it is to let Apricot catch a toy that he's both tantalized with and slightly scared of?

And for desert after supper, he came in to the kitchen with me. (I made a microwave thing that had to cool down, so I'd taken some laundry into the bedroom and was going back to the kitchen when I was joined by Apricot.) I illustrated that he was allowed to sit on the chairs.

He got up on one of the chairs and then put front paws on the table. I said "no, not the table" gently and guided his paws off the table, gently but persistently. He didn't act afraid, just like, "okay" and dropped back down and then off the chair. I find this interesting. Perhaps he's actually going to get the concept that quickly?

Most of the afternoon he spent snoozing in the cubby and watching me go back and forth as I read and watched some tv and did the few chores I had left.

So two weeks and he's now demanding petting and playtime, getting entangled underfoot, and expressing displeasure at my sleeping time choices. This is a far cry from the terrified cat who cowered under the headboard and wouldn't come out for anything!

Finding a New HideAway

Friday, June 20th, 2014

Last night I watched tv for the second time since Apricot came home with me and for the first time with the doors both open between the tv room and the bedroom. This left him a little skittish so I let the door open to the tv room.

During the middle of the night, Apricot decided same as the previous night that my catnap had lasted long enough and I should be getting up now. He meowed at me rather loudly from the floor next to the bed. I ignored him. He was less persistent last night than the night before, so I think we are making progress in the whole "I sleep all night" concept. At least he is still playing outside the room and not bumbling off the walls and keeping me up that way. His toy bird is moved every morning!

This morning he was under the headboard again and sleepy, but I actually managed to talk him up onto the bed with just my voice. I never got out from under the covers, and he curled up by my side, head on my hip, and just kind of snoozed while I played phone games. It was quite nice.

However, I'd left the door open to the tv room all day while I was at work, too, and I came home today to find that he'd been swallowed by the cat-eating couch. He was under the middle section which does not recline.

Well, this was a little bit fortuitous because I needed to rotate the mattress in the bedroom and I'd been dreading it all day, knowing that it would scare him to have his hidey hole under the headboard exposed like that. In fact, it was the absence of the pillows over the crack between the mattress end and the bookshelf of the headboard that had led him to search out a "better" hiding spot in the first place, I suspect.

So I rotated the mattress and made the bed and put everything back to rights. It's a funny thing how there were pillows blocking that opening to begin with: originally I hadn't put them there, but I'd discovered that as I slept, I moved up the bed, and I'd wake up with my head in the bookshelf. This often caused a mild headache because the bookshelf headboard isn't padded. So years ago I blocked myself with pillows, and as it worked, they've become a staple of the bedding. I didn't realize they were a staple of the hidey hole too.

After I finished with the bed I went and talked Apricot out from under the couch. I was afraid he wouldn't come, because, well, all I had was my voice. I could barely reach him to scritch his head and show him it was still just me. But he came out, except that the couch really had swallowed him and he had to figure out just how to get out. He ended up having to go the long way around from where he was and where I was coaxing.

Then he bolted past me and ran for the headboard hide, where he stayed till I followed him and crouched down to coax him out of there. But I didn't have to coax. He was a little wild eyed but came out readily enough. Apparently this is right and proper and petting should start with his emergence from under the headboard, nowhere else.

As in the past two days, this day I also managed to get him up on the bed (his own idea; no help physically from me) and then off the bed on the other side and into the living room. We walked side by side down the hallway with only a few hesitations from him.

Then I sat down to read, and he explored. He drank gallons from the water fountain and this time found that he could drink from the little up-twist of water from the pump below. He retreated to the bedroom for a short while but came back out again, licking his lips, and I think he went and ate food after his drink. He washed, and then explored some more, and this time he found what I think will be the spot.

The floor-to-ceiling cat tree that Max helped me unpack (which oddly I don't think I've written about) has a cubby hole with two entrances. They just happen to be positioned where a cat inside can keep an eye on two directions including the hallway, and a cat with his head just barely outside the cubby can see the whole living room.

The best spot in the living room

He has stayed in this cubby for three hours, including me getting up and going into the kitchen and making dreadful noises making supper, and starting the dishwasher. He startled a bit when I came over and petted him without preliminaries. So, grr, apparently it's going to be I have to get him okay with being petted in every location of the house I'm likely to pet him in. There has been less progress than I thought.

Given that, and given that the distant thunder scared him into hiding yesterday afternoon, I think I am going to tell my allergies to deal with it another week and wait for next Saturday before vacuuming the house. I really think it will do him good to get a little more comfortable with the current situation before I cause a giant roaring monster to tear through the house with evil intent toward all things kitty. (That's his view of it, not mine ... I just think it's too loud and wish I could find a quiet vacuum cleaner to replace this one.)

Conquering the Living Room

Thursday, June 19th, 2014

Last night after I wrote the last entry, I had eaten supper and then wanted to read a book. Apricot was back under the headboard.

I wanted to read my book in my comfy chair in the living room, but I thought that wasn't fair to Apricot, leaving him alone when I was actually in the house and wasn't away at work, so I took my book into the bedroom, prepared to sit down by the bed and read without bothering to coax him out. Just to be with.

He came out instantly and would have none of the book reading. Those hands should be petting him, not holding a book. Okay, that's fine. The book will always be here; he won't. (Yes, I have a slight obsession with death. Sorry.)

Apricot had more on his mind than being petted, though. He jumped up on the bed and I followed. Then he jumped down on the other side and headed out into the hallway. In the hallway, not a foot from the door, he lost his nerve and started to come back in.

I'd seen an opportunity though and wasn't about to let him chicken out if I could help it. So I cooed brave boy noises at him and edged out into the hall with him, putting myself a little down the hall toward the living room.

This is where I learned <at this point in writing, I got interrupted. I shall tell you about it later> anyway, I learned that he knows his name and what "come on" means, as well as my disappointed, "where are you going?" which means "come back."

He would get brave, and pass me, and then lose courage and stop, and look like he was about to go back the other way, and I would encourage, and move past him, and then he'd repeat the process, and in this funny leapfrog way, we made it into the living room and I made it into my chair.

And then me-in-the-chair became equivalent in lending bravery to Apricot like me-sleeping-in-bed. He promptly began to explore the living room. I've probably mentioned it already, but my living room used to be the living room, the den, and the kitchen but the people who lived here before me made it into one big room which is my favorite room in the house. It's open and airy and has four windows plus the patio doors which are panes of windows, and a fireplace which doesn't work, but lends that brick comfy look to the room, and it's lined with bookshelves and cat trees (two) and my computer desk.

Apricot drinking from the fountain

Apricot explored all of it. He even poked his head into the kitchen (it's around a corner so I can't see how far in he got). He went up the spiral stair cat tree which has a cup at the top for kitties to be in, and the first time he bumped the toy mouse that hangs from the cup, and startled himself because it has a jingle bell in it. But then he went up again shortly thereafter and made it into the cup, where he stayed looking out the window until an ambulance siren three streets away startled him into leaving.

Waiting for me to finish the book and come to bed

He came back around 9 pm and wanted to know if I was going to bed yet. ::giggle:: I have a cat alarm clock again. Pippin always used to do that, come in and inquire as to if I knew what time it was and shouldn't I be in bed by now? Pippin's reason was actually that he was sleepy too, since he slept on my schedule, and Apricot's doing it because that's the routine he's used to with me and if you break routine, you make anxious kitties nervous. It's still adorable.

This morning he came up onto the bed when invited and shared phone-game time with my hands. He didn't really want to share; he wanted my hands all to himself to pet him. He loves to mark my hands with the scent glands at the corners of his mouth, to the point where sometimes I can even feel my skin get wet. I think it makes him feel more comfortable with the human hands if they smell more like him. I don't mind this nearly as much as I mind being washed (which he hasn't done yet). I don't mind this kind of scent-marking at all, actually. I think it's sweet.

And this afternoon when I came home, I managed to coax him into the living room again where I sat down to type this. And the interruption came when he decided to clamber into the chair with me. So I put the laptop aside and engaged him in much praise and petting, especially when he tried out my lap with contemplation rather than trepidation. He decided it was too hot and my skin moves over my muscles and bones when it is stepped on and that is unnerving. Since I've never had a cat who had any other opinion of my lap, despite several of them being lap cats on occasion, it's not like this decision offended me!

A lot of me next to a happy Apricot

He spent perhaps ten minutes curled up next to me in the chair, but again, it's too hot in the house to be doing that for long, so then he went down onto the floor.

Unfortunately he has retreated to the bedroom again because there was thunder and it scared him.

Um. Oh dear. What am I going to do when I have to vacuum on Saturday? I do hope I'm not going to scare him back to square one!

Apricot Makes Great Strides

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Remember that mouse of his, the one he stashed inside his hideyhole? Well, to replace it, I brought in a stuffed brown bird with red feathers on its head. It was sometime late Sunday afternoon that I showed it to him, and made it do the toy mouse dance (I have a limited repertoire. All my stuffed toys for cats act like my toy mouse acted.) And then I left it on the cat stairs, really not knowing what to expect. He might stash it away with his mouse; he might ignore it for several days before I found it moved when I came home from work or woke up; or he might just not play with it at all.

In none of my potential scenarios did I include the one where he decided, apparently, that he was quite comfortable thank you, as long as I was in the room asleep, and that it was Playtime. All Sunday night. He bumped and thumped and sounded for all the world like he was literally bouncing off the walls. Like he was fighting with the stuffed toy and rolling into the walls for not knowing exactly where they were. He even launched over the bed a couple times, touching down once or twice on the way.

And to make things worse (as far as my sleep potential went, anyway) he decided the closet doors offended him, as they were closed, and should be opened promptly. They are sliding wooden doors and swing on tracks above, so a determined cat can get a paw underneath one and pull it toward him and then let go, and it goes thud-a-thud-a-thud-a against the other door. To be encouraging, each time said cat does this, the door may or may not move horizontally a bit, opening it just a tiny bit more.

I never woke up far enough to realize I could stop this by just getting up, opening the closet door, and going back to bed, but I woke up often enough and far enough that Monday I was incredibly sleep deprived.

By the way, I don't care if he's in my closet. The doors were only shut in the first place to make the room as small and non-threatening as possible. I opened them when I got up Monday morning. Usually when I'm not trying to not-scare a kitty, the doors stay open because I forget to close them.

Well, apparently my depression ganged up with my anxiety and took advantage of the sleep deprivation to have a beat-up-on-me day. I nearly dissolved in tears several times at work. I convinced myself that I couldn't possibly do this again, and by "this", I meant I couldn't possibly let myself fall in love with another cat and then when he dies, as he will eventually, go through all the pain that I've been dealing with ever since Pippin died. I was going to cancel my kittens and take Apricot back and just be cat-less the rest of my life because I can't handle this much pain again.

Luckily I didn't actually take any action on these decisions, mainly because I know me too well, and I know that when I feel that over-wrought, it is best to wait to implement any decisions I make until several days later, if I still feel that way.

But Monday when I got home I wasn't feeling particularly in the mood for kitty cuddles, and while I dutifully went in and said hello and all that, he wasn't feeling particularly in the mood either, because my yard service had come that day and scared the living daylights out of him. (The lawn was mowed, the bushes were trimmed, and Apricot was coiled in a ball: not hard to make the connection, even if I hadn't been here at the time.)

I'm not sure what went through his head Monday night, but apparently he got over his lawn-induced scare and decided it was Playtime again. At least Monday night he didn't have the closet doors closed to make noise with, and I slept slightly better though not much. I was in a much better frame of mind Tuesday, in any case.

But at some point in the night I decided I couldn't deal with this (being woken by playing all night) anymore, and if he was so confident he was playing that hard, he could handle being in the rest of the house. So Tuesday when I woke up, I left the door open to the bedroom when I went for a walk. I used foam rectangles to make a barrier the height of a baby gate in the hallway, thinking that little scared Apricot would take the path of least resistance and just investigate the pink room, if he came out at all.

When I came back from my walk he wasn't in the pink room. He wasn't in the bedroom. I'd shut the door to the purple room (where the tv and cat-swallowing couch are) so he wasn't in there. I looked all over for him. Had I accidentally left him go out the door when I came in from the walk?

No. But I had startled him in the act of exploration, and he had resorted to the nearest hiding place he could find. He was behind the washer and dryer. (I say both because he was in the middle, which meant half of him was behind the washer and half was behind the dryer.) The washer and dryer are in a closet with folding doors off of the kitchen, which is where the outside door is as well (they're both in the kitchen, I mean, not that you walk into the laundry closet from the outside.)

I said hello, in as calm a voice as I could manage, what with the worry he'd given me about maybe getting outside. He peered up at me through the cables and hoses and didn't seem too taken aback.

Well, I can't actually get him out from there without some major scare damage (I think my only options are moving him with the grabber device I have for reaching top shelves, or pulling the washer and dryer into the kitchen). So I just got ready for work and left, hoping he'd come out while I was gone.

Tuesday I came home briefly after work before having to leave again, and he wasn't behind the washer and dryer any more. I went hunting, and he was back in his old hideyhole again.

Someone called him a baby seal when they saw this picture

Except it didn't seem like it was a hideyhole, more like this was "the place to meet me" when I came in the house. Because he came out without any coaxing at all, even before I'd fully sat down. And boy was he a love bug. Apparently by mostly ignoring him Monday afternoon, I'd starved his love meter, and he was determined to fill it back up. He wouldn't let me stop petting him; if my hand stilled (because I was getting tired!) he'd shove his head underneath it and pet himself if I didn't get with the program. Purring like thunder the whole time.

And then he decided we should continue this petting session up on the bed, and leaped up there (disdaining the steps) and expected me to follow. So I did. I was actually quite enjoying all of this, though a little taken aback. I mean, I've never had petting demanded from me before, and never quite so cute-ly either!

What was that noise?

Although he'd heard the sounds of the house for a week now, they were louder with the door open, and every time the house fan went on full, he'd get all alert like this. But I wasn't to stop petting; if I did, he looked back at me with the classic cat expression of "why did you stop doing that? did I tell you you could stop doing that?"

I left reluctantly for my appointment, and when I came back, having had my head cleared of some things that had been confusing me, he was just as lovey as before.

I decided that Monday was just the sleep deprivation and the other problems talking. And that pain is part of life and, to (sort-of) quote a movie, I shouldn't be so afraid of losing something that I never have it in the first place.

While I made my phone call to Lynn (his shelter friend) to tell her about his progress, he decided once again to make more, and proceeded to explore the house with me trailing along far behind. He climbed one of the cat trees to the window, poked his head in the litter box's big box (these are both in the living room), climbed on top of the litter box's big box (it's carpeted on top and provides a good spot to look out the patio doors), came back around through the hallway where he glared at the closed door to the purple room (I was hard put not to laugh), and almost went up the cat tree in the pink room but decided not to because there was no point. This was because I hadn't been prepared to let him out so soon and had forgotten to put the blinds up on the window that cat tree looks out of.

Before we went to bed I showed him the red feather bird and placed it carefully in the hallway right outside the bedroom door where he could see it. And wonder of wonders, it worked! I slept through the night, and he played outside the bedroom, because the bird had moved in the morning. If he played in the bedroom proper, I slept through it.

Amazing how much better a good night's sleep makes you feel.

Today when I got home from work he was in the hideyhole, but instantly out to greet me. Sometime during the petting he acted like he wanted to go up on the bed but changed his mind, and before I could stop myself, I gathered him up and put him on the bed anyway, and then gently petted his head (his favorite spots on his head) while he thought about that.

He decided it was okay since he hadn't gone anywhere he hadn't actually planned to go, and it happened so fast. And after a while I climbed up on the bed with him, still petting, but getting tired. And after a while I put my head down and he put his head into my hand and we were like that for a while, with him purring up a storm again.

Head in hand, camera in my other hand at an angle.
Just wanted to reassure you that my house really is
horizontal, not tilted at an angle.

So it's nice when a cat is purring and wanting you to pet them, and it's nice when they're leaning into your hand like this. But what is really flattering is when they fall asleep with your hand on them (across their back, resting on their sides, whatever) and stop purring. Because that means they have gone to sleep so deeply they can't keep the purr going anymore because they're, well, asleep. And that means they trusted you enough that your presence, physically felt, was not enough to keep them awake.

Apricot fell asleep with my hand propped against his back and over his side, facing away from me, and he actually stopped purring for a very short while before he woke up again at some house-noise that startled him awake. I nearly fell asleep during this lovely interlude as well. 

Being on the bed

Apricot on the bed!

June 15, 2014 Sunday

Sunday mornings I sort of sleep in; I get up, go for my walk, and then go back to bed. Before the walk part, while I was sleeping, I have a vague memory of having kicked a cat out of bed. Not deliberately in a metaphorical sense. Literally, as in my foot contacted Apricot. 

When I got up the first time, to go for a walk, he was very skittish and didn't want to come out and only was lured out with a treat, and didn't want to be cuddled (I have achieved cuddling twice now, both times last night) and ran under the headboard, acting all scared. 

I think my vague memory must really have happened, and that Apricot didn't understand I was asleep and couldn't help it. This meant that he was on the bed last night (yey!) but that we had experienced a setback (boo). However, he's just going to have to learn that when I'm asleep, I move. Every cat I've had has rapidly learned to sleep on the bed above the level of my waist so I don't kick them. And I've kicked every cat I've had out of the bed at least once, and in some cases multiple times over the years as they forget or test to see if it's safe to sleep on the bottom of the bed again. 

But I did apologize later when I woke up for good around 11 am. He seemed to accept the apology, or at least the emotion in my voice saying I was sorry for something, and he came out for petting and wasn't skittish. (I didn't, however, attempt a cuddle again. Cuddling is when I gather him up into my lap with my arms around him; it's not really a lap cat thing, it's just an 'all the cat is in my arms' thing.)

He went around the corner of the bed, which is usually his way of going back under the headboard the long way, and I was a bit disappointed. I came after, slowly, asking where he was going and if he couldn't possibly stay some more. He hesitated on the other side of the bed. I stopped where he could see me and didn't come closer as he's never let me come close on that side of the bed. And talked to him.

Then he startled me by turning to the bed, tensing briefly and leaping up onto it. Well, there goes my theory that he couldn't jump. 

I was quite happy and said so, in soft happy tones. He wiggled and wanted petting, so I did. He likes rubbing the side of his face against my hands, and likes even more when I do it to him because I can apply more force since I can do both hands on both sides at the same time. Sometimes he'll use a front paw (back ones are still off limits, remember) to guide my hand to where he wants me to pet. 

He seemed so comfortable that I thought perhaps I could push it. He was kneading the quilt like crazy, just like he kneads the floor when I pet him, and unlike the floor, the quilt wasn't exactly going to stand up to a lot of this, not with his claws still cat-sharp. At least they weren't needle sharp.

But I thought I could just possibly clip his claws. I got out the claw clippers and presented them to him. The fact that he stayed put while I straightened up and walked away from the bed and then back to it was promising. He sniffed them and patted them with his paws, and then dismissed them as unimportant. So I showed him that they could move in my hands, open and close. This too was observed and filed away in his database of new things.

Then, talking and explaining the whole time in a calm, steady voice, I took up a front paw and stuck out the first claw and clipped it. There was no reaction from Apricot other than watching this procedure with interest. I moved to the next claw, poked it out and clipped it. Again, no negative reaction. I was amazed, but I got all four claws on each of his front feet. 

There's a fifth claw called a dew claw which is the one on the side of the feet. It's harder to get to and requires a bit more handling of the paw. Since he'd been so good about the regular claws, I decided to go for broke and try for the dew claws.

And he was just fine with it, brave kitty! He did think it was a bit odd, but he let me do it. Honestly, the most difficulty he gave me was accidental on his part. He was still so happy he was still kneading, and his paws would flex unexpectedly under my hands as I was going for a claw.

I put the claw clippers away, telling him we wouldn't have to do that for a week or two, and he had moved into the exact center of the bed by this time, and watched me gravely as I moved about. Well, let's push it one more time. 

Kneading happily

Telling him what I was doing, I hitched myself up on the bed and lay down on the very edge, so I wasn't really close to him. He was still within arms' reach and I petted him and made him happy cat again. I really would have liked to stay there, but my tummy was being quite insistent about lunchtime. So finally I got off the bed (he stayed put) and went out to get something to eat. And when I came back, Apricot was once more under the headboard. 

Visiting Br'er Coon

June 14, 2014 Saturday

Today I went to visit the lady who is going to make my Maine Coon kittens for me at her home, Br'er Coon.

The drive there was lovely. I have never seen a more gorgeous day. I'd left the interstate (on purpose this time; I got lost so often this trip) and was on a two lane state highway with no traffic and gentle winding curves. There were vivid green meadows on either side of the highway and deeper green forest trees beyond them. The sky was a deep cerulean blue with a few large puffy white clouds. And to make things even more idyllic, the meadows were full of sunflowers and daisies and other large yellow flowers which were being visited by a flock of white butterflies.

Such a lovely house--and she takes care of all those plants!

Mrs. McFadden's house is lovely--if you go to the website the main picture with the doors that open to click through into the website is her actual house.

When I came in, the cats who are pets and live in the main house eagerly came to greet me. Grandma (a cat) was stately and overweight and held back mostly because I gathered she has great dignity. The only kitten currently in the house is a bit of a Little Miss Snooty and didn't really want cuddles. Mrs. McFadden said she's not like her normal kittens and frowned at her and said, well, when you try a new sire, you never know what you will get. Little Miss Snooty is going into the breeding program when she grows up which is why she was still there. All the other kittens had gone to their new homes already.

Tilly, aka Little Miss Snooty

This is okay. Having lots of kittens around is overwhelming and I'd rather see what they are like grownup. They don't stay kittens for long, but the adult stage lasts much longer, so I'd prefer to see what I'm getting for the long-term rather than play with kittens.

Fire in braided cat bed

There are cat beds and cushions and trees everywhere, but Mrs. McFadden has that interior decorator's touch which makes everything blend well and look appropriate. We spend some time talking while sitting on some facing loveseats, and Fire, one of the pet girls, was curled up in the cat basket made of braided rug material on the loveseat. I was petting her and she was most appreciative, especially when I knew enough to simply let my hand rest against her tummy after she wanted a snooze. She coiled her paws around my wrist so we ended up staying there longer because I was in a cat trap :)

Across the breezeway (left main house, right guest house)

She has a large house and across a little entryway was the part of the house where the breeding girls stay, and Tank, one of the boys.

Tank's hammock where he is most
definitely not looking outside.

During the day he is in a cage so he can look out and the door to the girls' room is open with just the screen door keeping them in. During the night the door to the girls' room gets shut and Tank gets to wander through the guest bedroom.
In the house proper, one of the pets is a boy named Wally. Wally is a big boy, bigger than Tank. But somehow, despite physics, Tank is heavier than Wally. She let me hold Tank (who shoved his head up under my chin and wanted scritches, as if I could free even one hand to pet him when I was taxed to my limit to hold him confidently with both hands) and he is extremely heavy for a cat the size he is.

One end of the girl's room, with assorted girls.
(Tootsie on high, Cinder on floor, Teddy on right)

When we went into the girls' room, a large open airy room with many cat trees, a couple folding chairs, and a bathroom with a water bowl in the sink so they can play with their water all they want without getting it everywhere else, Mrs. McFadden said I should sit down and they'd be all over me, and she'd be in in a minute while she got a current list of cats and ages.

Cinder under my hand, Tootsie jealously
looking on trying to get a share of pets

So I sat down on the concrete floor (turns out she'd expected me to sit in a chair) and she was right about them being all over me. I was instantly inundated with cats. Cinder, a solid blue girl, won the rights to stand across my lap right next to me, and held this position for some time much to the annoyance of Teddy, Baa-Baa, and Tootsie. Eventually Cinder got bored and left, and then I had one of the others instantly there.

Mrs. McFadden wanted to know why I thought I needed
a "good" lap as her cats will take anything offered
as Tootsie is showing here on my lap,
bare legs, bony knees and all.

Cinder has a thing about hair, so I took my ponytail down (my hair is short now), and let her play with it. I don't think I would let her do this if she was my cat, but since I don't have to worry about being played with unexpectedly through the day, I was willing to let her have her fun. Later I was sitting there and petting one of them, and felt a cat land quite heavily on the ponytail (I'd put it back up) with her front feet and back feet on the ground, and start tugging on my hair. I said, "Hello, Cinder," in a put-upon tone, without looking around.

Mrs. McFadden thought that was amusing, that I didn't even bother to look and knew exactly who it was pulling on my hair.

Oddly enough, I got nibbled on by several of the cats, and this astonished Mrs. McFadden since they'd never done this before. I'm beginning to think it's my body wash, a vanilla scented body butter lotion. They always go after my hands, and since I use my hands to apply the body wash, it's going to be the most concentrated there. I'm beginning to think I need to return to using a citrus scented non-butter-type body wash. (Cats aren't attracted to citrus.)

Mrs. McFadden holding the densely muscled Tank

Then we went to visit the current courting couple in the boys' new home. Both boys will be here once they get the other side up, but it came damaged so only one side is working. This is a shed with air conditioning and heating, and the "sides" are open-work metal to keep the boys from each other's girls, I guess. She opened the side where Ms. Hattie and Mr. Green Genes were hanging out in their cat trees, and although they came out, and let themselves be handled, it was like we were both part of the scenery.

Mr. Green Genes in his cat tree watching Ms. Hattie

Ms. Hattie in the window seat

This was my first experience with the way hormones make the cats so very different. The two of them were entirely focused on each other such that I didn't exist and Mrs. McFadden, their person, barely existed. It was odd to be so ignored after the pileup in the girls room!

Ms Hattie may or may not be pregnant. They'll know in one or two weeks if she is. And if she is, she might be carrying my boys. Mrs. McFadden is reluctant to breed another girl right now, because the last time Ms. Hattie had a litter, she had 11 kittens. That's not a typo. She had 11 kittens and the humans had to help out with the nursing because she didn't have enough to go round, plus simply keeping up with and training that many kittens was exhausting ... since another cat had had kittens near the same time, a more normal 6, and that meant poor Mrs. McFadden was trying to care for 17 kittens. She said it just about killed her and she doesn't want to risk it again.

Tootsie showing off the black mark on her foot
which is where her name comes from

I had brought a stack of cardboard packing squares for her. I use them to make scratching posts (you stack them on top of each other). Since I get them from work, and they only get thrown away if I don't take them, I feel free in giving them to people (because if they don't like them, they can just recycle them and neither of us are out anything). 

After seeing her lovely and elegant home, I didn't know what she'd think of a stack of cardboard, but she loved it and started instantly thinking of ways of creating a background for photo shoots with it! I never would have thought of that. We put the stack in the girls' room, and although they didn't start scratching right away, they did start playing Queen of the Hill on the stack. As we were stacking them. We had to keep moving cats off the current top piece so as to add more pieces!

And then I drove back home, getting lost again, this time bad enough I had to resort to Google and GPS to get me out of the mess I was in instead of using just my paper directions. But as it didn't delay me much, only about 10 minutes, I wasn't too put out by it.

Toy Mouse Provocation

June 14, 2014

Saturday morning as I got up, I leaned over the crack between the mattress and the headboard and started talking to Apricot under the headboard. He came out and then acted for all the world like he wanted up on the bed, but couldn't quite reach. He was doing the same thing Pippin had done as a kitten, where he was refusing to jump and trying instead to climb up. Unlike Pippin, he was using claws to get a hold, but also unlike Pippin, he had far more than a foot off the ground to climb. My bed then was a waterbed, very low to the floor. My bed now sits on a framework of drawers and then has a mattress set on top of it. The top of the mattress comes to almost my waist, and even I have to hitch myself up onto it. (Makes it really easy to get out of bed in the morning, though--all I have to do is sit up and slide onto the floor and then wait for my feet and legs to realize they're expected to be in service now.)

So when I got up (Apricot promptly disappeared under the headboard again after I stopped leaning over the edge talking to him) I went over and moved the cat stairs next to the bed, for whenever he demonstrated a desire to get up again.

After I was out of the room starting laundry but before my walk, I came back in to lure him out for a morning's share of petting. This was received quite eagerly, but he was almost ... feisty. You can't really apply that word to him, but he was definitely more alert than usual. Petting wasn't getting the job done. I thought perhaps, just perhaps, he wants to play.

There was a stuffed mouse on the floor. I'd left it there all week, and it hadn't moved an inch. But yesterday I noticed that it had moved a couple feet, so apparently he'd gotten comfortable enough with its presence to do things with it. 

I grabbed the mouse and started making it be a "live" toy mouse. My toy mice aren't like real mice. My mice are very bold and very scared at the same time. 

The mouse approached Apricot cautiously, right up to him, and booped him on a front foot. Then, terrified by its own audacity, the mouse scuttled back to hide behind the closest thing that made the cat disappear (to the mouse's viewpoint): behind my bent leg. But then the mouse came right back out, danced over to Apricot, and bopped him on the foot again. And went and hid. The mouse was out of Apricot's sight, too, which was the point. 

Unlike Max, where I only had to do this once and the lights all went on in screaming neon and I had to get my hand off the mouse fast because there was about to be carnage (and there was), with Apricot I had to make the mouse taunt him four or five times before he started coming after the mouse when it retreated. Even then he only came a little forward each time.

He started making paw motions at the mouse, sometimes pinning it to the floor by its nose (which isn't very efficient as the mouse simply waits for a "caught" second and then wiggles free), and sometimes biting it. Soon, though, he'd progressed past the point where the mouse could hide behind my leg. 

So the mouse looked around and saw the cat stairs. My toy mice are not very bright, and they don't think cats can climb (or jump). With this in mind, the mouse retreated to the first stair and did a "na-na-na-na-na" dance on it, very taunting. Silent, though--I didn't add sound effects. Apricot's not stupid; he'd know it wasn't the mouse. 

I did make comments urging Apricot on, letting him know that this was entirely appropriate and desirable and I thought he should "get that mouse!"

Apricot climbed up on the first stair to get the mouse! The mouse allowed itself to be caught momentarily, and then twisted free and retreated up to the second stair, confident that this stair was cat proof. 

Apricot proved the mouse wrong.

In this way I lured Apricot all the way up the stairs and onto the bed, where he was allowed to finally "catch" the mouse completely. He held onto it and nibbled the ears and tugged on them with his teeth, lying in a comfortable curled up ball on the bed. I forgot to take pictures, I was so pleased with his progress.

But I had a busy day ahead of me, and I needed to get it started, so I headed off for my walk, leaving Apricot on the bed and, as he had disregarded the mouse after "killing" it by tugging the ears, put the mouse on the floor.

When I came back from my walk, I looked for the mouse to see if he'd played with it some more (Apricot had retreated back to the headboard hide again. He does every time I leave the room, no matter how comfortable he is or how sleepy I've left him.) I didn't see the mouse anywhere. I sat down and peered under the headboard to ask Apricot where his mouse was, and saw the mouse under the headboard with him. It was in the middle of the space where Apricot thinks I can't reach.

So far the mouse hasn't moved that I have seen, so apparently he didn't bring it under there to play with. (It's a day later that I'm writing this). I wonder if he brought it under there so it couldn't taunt him again, or if he brought it so that it would stay safe. The toys in the cat room at the shelter are regularly changed out, so a favorite toy would disappear after a while, and in addition, any toy that Apricot may have liked would also be played with by the other cats. I think Apricot "stole" the mouse because he liked it, it was his toy, and he wasn't going to risk having it disappear or be played with by someone else.

Why Does Everyone Keep Biting Me?

June 13, 2014

Max bit me a lot because he's Max and that's what he does.

Apricot Marmalade bit me this morning because he was provoked.

I woke up after a solid night's sleep, full of vim and vigor, and rather forgot that not everybody might have woken up to a good mood. Then as I was getting ready for work I wanted one last pet and kiss goodbye. Now he likes head kisses, so I was rather too quickly trying to coax him out of the hideaway, because I knew he'd like the result.

And then there were pawsies, and I have a weakness for white pawsies, and I got over-enthusiastic and went all grabby hands for the back paws. Well, he'd been enjoying (mostly) the coaxing up till now, and had turned over with his front paws folded down and wedged against the bed. So he didn't have front claws available to tell me to quit it when I didn't pay attention to his more subtle signals.

So he used his teeth. Actually, one tooth, and if you saw the result on my hand, you'd swear it was a cat scratch from a claw, not a bite-mark. Believe me, after Max, I know what normal bite marks look like!

I left abruptly, possibly teaching him that the way to make me go away when he wants me to leave is to bite me, but whatever. The whole incident sent me into a tailspin and I had to go to work anyway, so I went to work and had a (small) meltdown there. It took me most of the day to reason out the logical sequence of events I have described above. Mostly what I was feeling at the time was happy-to-be-with-cat and then ow-why-does-everyone-keep-biting-me? I had an irrational dread that I'd get home to find he'd turned into a Max-style cat during the day and have trashed the room and refuse to get close unless it was in order to bite me.

When I came home, it was to a sweet kitty who wanted lots of petting and rubbing and scratching and came out hardly without any coaxing at all. Although I apologized for scaring him and upsetting him and promised no more grabby hands, etc, Apricot didn't even want to listen to that; he just wanted petted. Apparently he's more resilient than I thought, or more forgiving.

Apricot Marmalade reaching out

He even let me take pictures, which is kind of amazing, as usually when he's out from under, he wants petted, and won't hold still far enough away to get him in focus! Here he is purring like thunder, and reaching out with a front paw. He likes to touch paw to fingers, but he doesn't want me wrapping my hand around his front paws or touching in any way his back paws. I gingerly tested this theory, making sure he saw my single finger reaching slowly for his back paw, and he put his mouth on my hand, his open mouth, but with absolutely no pressure from his jaw.

Ah, okay. Definitely the paws then were the off-limits thing I did this morning. Well, I don't actually need to be able to handle his back paws right now. He's doing a good job of keeping his back claws trimmed by himself, and it's not like I can clip front claws now either. So we will leave the back paw touching until very much later. (He's not getting out of it, though; eventually I'll work on that bit.)

He's definitely gotten into the spirit of head kisses / head bumps, though. (From my point of view, it's a kiss. From his, it's a head bump.) When I'm sitting I can't actually bend over far enough to kiss his head without losing my balance (which is frightening for him so I don't). I started by lifting him up just that last bit, just the front part of him, so I could kiss him.

He now rises up into the kiss of his own accord, sometimes a little faster and sooner than I was prepared for! That's how I know he likes head kisses.

Also, I can now brush him all over, including tail (but excluding paws--although I never brushed paws before so the omission is hardly a big deal now) and including tummy, with the actual brush. That took a few tries. The brush was a little startling and had to be investigated. But I've left it on the floor all this time, and he can interact with it on his own terms all he likes, and I think he's gotten the idea that it feels good to have the brush with the bristles against his skin. He even lets me brush him firmly, without moving away from it. He even leans into it sometimes. Every so often, though, he gets a kind of sideways almost-movement and a skittery look in his eyes, and then I stop and hold the brush out where he can sniff it and confirm that yes, it's the same brush.

Since I come in to pet him, and want him to come out to meet me, he's also getting the idea that he only comes out for petting when I'm there and if I'm there but not petting, he goes back in the hideaway spot. This is annoying but I don't see how I can change his mind. And I know that sometimes, when you're interacting with someone new to you, even if you're enjoying it, it can get overwhelming and you need to back off and be by yourself for a while.

It's not like he retreats to the middle of the headboard, either. He just goes right inside, and often leaves his head in the entryway, looking happily at me with half-closed eyes and that purr like thunder.

The entry way to his hidey hole
is to the right. --> (that way)
in case I got my lefts and
 rights mixed up again.