 |
| Thimble is roasting himself |
 |
| Not a care in the world |
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Teenager Cats
Colby and Thimble are turning into teenagers, right on schedule. They're long and lanky and have no extra padding, and as a result, look very un-put-together.
The "if they were humans" emotional component of being teenagers ...
Thimble would be the teenager that if he had a 10 pm curfew, would be home at 10:05 (even if he had to wait outside to accomplish this) just to see what your reaction would be. He'd be the one going out for every sport he can find, pushing his boundaries in all directions to see where they were now.
For Thimble, who doesn't have a curfew, obviously, this means he's constantly pushing at the rules "can I scratch the carpet now? What about now? What about here? Is here different than over here?" but he's also a fairly calm companion--he likes to be with me and to be hugged, but he's not desperate. He's quite confident I love him and doesn't feel the need to have it proven to him repeatedly.
Colby, on the other hand, is the goth teenager who listens to emo music and reads depressing poetry and is quite sure no one loves him. He's become quite clingy and wants to be carried around a lot (previously Thimble's territory). Thimble tolerates this because Thimble is confident and Colby needs this right now ... at least, that's the way it looks to me. I rather wondered if Thimble was going to be smacking Colby around more if I started carrying him more, the way he did when they were babies, but he's fine with it.
Colby will sit on the kitchen stool and wait for me to notice him (unlike Thimble, who, if he wants carried, is quite likely to lead me to the kitchen stool and launch at my shoulder with only that minor warning)! Then I go over and stand by the stool and pat under his arm, as if I was going to pull his front leg toward me. This has become his signal to climb onto my shoulder. And it is a climb, not Thimble's acrobatic leap.
It's easier to carry Colby than Thimble, and it's not the few ounces less he weighs. Colby molds himself to my body, clinging to me, whereas Thimble wants to look around and use my height to investigate things. We've at least gotten to the point where he doesn't lunge off my shoulder to investigate something more closely. Thank goodness.
Holding Colby is like holding a half-stuffed teddy-bear. You can "squish" him against you and he just cuddles in tighter.
Colby has also started sleeping most of the night on my bed with me rather than roaming around with Apricot the way he did as a baby kitten.
And Apricot's view of the new teenager behavior? He mostly just sighs and puts up with it. Occasionally he'll come running over to me (usually as I walk through the room he's in) as if to say, "please reassure me they're going to grow up soon!"
I kind of echo him on that. I like the teenagers better than the babies. The teenagers, Thimble's boundary-pushing aside, actually know the few rules I have and mostly abide by them. I can ask them to do stuff and sometimes they'll do it. (One Thursday night I was making the bed and was exhausted and asked them to please just let me make the bed without help tonight, and all three of them stayed off the bed until I'd gotten the comforter on it.)
But I would also like to have more grown up cats. I know a lot of people like the kittens better (the shelter I got Apricot from said they pick up a lot of grown cats who have their shelter's chip in--an indication that they were adopted as kittens and then tossed out to fend for themselves as soon as they stopped being all cute and little. Which is horrible. If you don't want to have an adult cat, foster the kittens, you dimwit! Sorry not sorry.)
I like grownups better. Grownup cats aren't balls of energy all the time they're awake. Grownup cats are perfectly happy being next to you while you read, or play games on your smartphone, or whatever. Grownup cats can sleep next to you without suddenly becoming overwhelmed with a desire to pounce on the other cat on the bed.
And grownup cats understand what you say better, and can respond more appropriately to situations. Kittens are entirely unpredictable--one reason why my two wore harnesses until they got big enough to grab quickly... just in case they got into something where I needed to grab them quickly.
Being on the autism spectrum means I prefer predictability and "playing next to" rather than "playing with." Grownup cats are much better at all that.
Oh well. Enjoy my teenagers while it lasts, though. In a couple years they'll be grownup soon enough.
The "if they were humans" emotional component of being teenagers ...
Thimble would be the teenager that if he had a 10 pm curfew, would be home at 10:05 (even if he had to wait outside to accomplish this) just to see what your reaction would be. He'd be the one going out for every sport he can find, pushing his boundaries in all directions to see where they were now.
For Thimble, who doesn't have a curfew, obviously, this means he's constantly pushing at the rules "can I scratch the carpet now? What about now? What about here? Is here different than over here?" but he's also a fairly calm companion--he likes to be with me and to be hugged, but he's not desperate. He's quite confident I love him and doesn't feel the need to have it proven to him repeatedly.
Colby, on the other hand, is the goth teenager who listens to emo music and reads depressing poetry and is quite sure no one loves him. He's become quite clingy and wants to be carried around a lot (previously Thimble's territory). Thimble tolerates this because Thimble is confident and Colby needs this right now ... at least, that's the way it looks to me. I rather wondered if Thimble was going to be smacking Colby around more if I started carrying him more, the way he did when they were babies, but he's fine with it.
Colby will sit on the kitchen stool and wait for me to notice him (unlike Thimble, who, if he wants carried, is quite likely to lead me to the kitchen stool and launch at my shoulder with only that minor warning)! Then I go over and stand by the stool and pat under his arm, as if I was going to pull his front leg toward me. This has become his signal to climb onto my shoulder. And it is a climb, not Thimble's acrobatic leap.
It's easier to carry Colby than Thimble, and it's not the few ounces less he weighs. Colby molds himself to my body, clinging to me, whereas Thimble wants to look around and use my height to investigate things. We've at least gotten to the point where he doesn't lunge off my shoulder to investigate something more closely. Thank goodness.
Holding Colby is like holding a half-stuffed teddy-bear. You can "squish" him against you and he just cuddles in tighter.
Colby has also started sleeping most of the night on my bed with me rather than roaming around with Apricot the way he did as a baby kitten.
And Apricot's view of the new teenager behavior? He mostly just sighs and puts up with it. Occasionally he'll come running over to me (usually as I walk through the room he's in) as if to say, "please reassure me they're going to grow up soon!"
I kind of echo him on that. I like the teenagers better than the babies. The teenagers, Thimble's boundary-pushing aside, actually know the few rules I have and mostly abide by them. I can ask them to do stuff and sometimes they'll do it. (One Thursday night I was making the bed and was exhausted and asked them to please just let me make the bed without help tonight, and all three of them stayed off the bed until I'd gotten the comforter on it.)
But I would also like to have more grown up cats. I know a lot of people like the kittens better (the shelter I got Apricot from said they pick up a lot of grown cats who have their shelter's chip in--an indication that they were adopted as kittens and then tossed out to fend for themselves as soon as they stopped being all cute and little. Which is horrible. If you don't want to have an adult cat, foster the kittens, you dimwit! Sorry not sorry.)
I like grownups better. Grownup cats aren't balls of energy all the time they're awake. Grownup cats are perfectly happy being next to you while you read, or play games on your smartphone, or whatever. Grownup cats can sleep next to you without suddenly becoming overwhelmed with a desire to pounce on the other cat on the bed.
And grownup cats understand what you say better, and can respond more appropriately to situations. Kittens are entirely unpredictable--one reason why my two wore harnesses until they got big enough to grab quickly... just in case they got into something where I needed to grab them quickly.
Being on the autism spectrum means I prefer predictability and "playing next to" rather than "playing with." Grownup cats are much better at all that.
Oh well. Enjoy my teenagers while it lasts, though. In a couple years they'll be grownup soon enough.
The Shirt of Great Desire
My mom gave me a shirt she'd had in her closet. Her closet has a perfumed soap bar inside. This meant the shirt, although pretty, had a perfumed smell to it that I couldn't tolerate that close to my skin. So when I got it home, I put it on the floor.
This served two purposes. One, it would let it air out, and two, it would allow the cats to satisfy their curiosity about the new smell and the new object without going somewhere I didn't want them to, like on the counter, or leaping up to pull it down, say if I'd hung it up.
I expected them to smell it, thoroughly investigate it, and then ignore it. The usual method of cat investigation.
Well, they did the first two, but failed miserably on the last. This was the latest "it" spot, the nightclub where everybody wanted to be.
 |
| Apricot and Thimble trying to share |
Occasionally they even shared.
 |
| Colby on the shirt. |
Most of the time it was just one cat. Whoever got there first. I swear there was some sub vocal "na-na-na-boo-boo" going on.
 |
| Thimble and Apricot arguing over the shirt |
I feel like I should put a shirt on the floor all the time. I'd come home and find it all in a bundle. The minute I smoothed it back out on the carpet, I had a cat on it.
When I went to wash it this Saturday, I took one of those cat hair remover masking tape roller things to it. It's amazing how much hair there was on it! I think they'd turned a once-black shirt to a dingy gray. Even the roller and the washer didn't get all of it off.
So, reluctantly, I hung it up in the kitchen to continue to air out (a week of cat sitting and a wash didn't remove enough of the smell). They don't seem to miss it, however.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)