OK, so I'll admit I've been working long hours lately and haven't been home as much. That's why I have a cat, not a dog or a child (!). BUT, correspondingly, Currie has been worse and worse behaved. It's culminated in the last few nights with her meowing all night. And I mean, ALLLLLL night. Even when shut out of the bedroom, she's meowing and crying in this really pitiful I'm-too-upset-to-even-meow type of moan. And she's biting my feet. Alot. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, when she started attacking my feet as I walked around the house. Today I was lying on the bed talking on the phone and she jumped at my face. I was starting to freak out that maybe she had rabies or something (nevermind that there hasn't been a case of feline rabies in BC in...decades). Where had my happy, sunny little cuddly kitten gone?
So I did a bit of a Google to find out why the hell my cat seemed to think my feet were new items of prey and why she all of a sudden had a temper. Turns out...she's neglected and acting out. I'm not playing with her enough and the fact that I carry her around like a sack of potatoes when I AM home is apparently not enough...the kid needs exercise. She's the kitten equivalent of an obese 7 year old playing videogames instead of playing outside. The foot-attacking is the main symptom of neglected kittens.
Do I feel like a crappy mother now? Yes I do. And my hopes of ever trying to balance this job with, oh, I don't know, a healthy home life, have gone out the window (at least for tonight) when I can't even keep my frickin' CAT happy. To assuage my guilt, Currie and I have just wrapped up half an hour of playing with her Cat Dancer (read: a piece of string stuck to a wand), topped off with a few rounds against Uncle Skunk (a little catnip skunk). Then, in true bad mother fashion, I plied her with treats to make her feel REALLLLLY loved...
So I did a bit of a Google to find out why the hell my cat seemed to think my feet were new items of prey and why she all of a sudden had a temper. Turns out...she's neglected and acting out. I'm not playing with her enough and the fact that I carry her around like a sack of potatoes when I AM home is apparently not enough...the kid needs exercise. She's the kitten equivalent of an obese 7 year old playing videogames instead of playing outside. The foot-attacking is the main symptom of neglected kittens.
Do I feel like a crappy mother now? Yes I do. And my hopes of ever trying to balance this job with, oh, I don't know, a healthy home life, have gone out the window (at least for tonight) when I can't even keep my frickin' CAT happy. To assuage my guilt, Currie and I have just wrapped up half an hour of playing with her Cat Dancer (read: a piece of string stuck to a wand), topped off with a few rounds against Uncle Skunk (a little catnip skunk). Then, in true bad mother fashion, I plied her with treats to make her feel REALLLLLY loved...