I think my new kitten is defective.
Hopes for a little furry bundle of cute kitten-ness has yet to appear. Instead in it's place is a stalking, biting, scratching bundle of pure spitfire. Stinkpot is living up to his name of being a stinkpot.
They say pets are like their owners but I don't ever remember being such a brat. I am starting to wonder if perhaps I had stuck with a more cutsey name like "cuddles", the kitten would have a different personality. The kitten has issues...maybe more than I can handle.
I did a little web surfing today on how to tame the kitten. So far I have only had the pet for just a couple of weeks, but it appears I have done everything wrong. I must have. Most psychologists blame everything on the mother, so I know that when the finger pointing happens, I will be first in the line of that finger. I've had cats before, in fact my favorite pet was a Siamese cat I had for over 20 years. Maybe I am comparing the kitten to that favorite pet and he feels he can't live up to his predecessor. Maybe I am expecting to much. Maybe I have just bitten off more than I can chew and the kitten needs round the clock attention.
One of the websearches I came across mentioned that kittens taken too soon from their mother's, might be more aggressive... Aggressive is an understatement. I am in desperate need of a "Cat Whisperer" or a cat shouter, either way I still don't think Stinkpot will listen. Even now as I type this blog I can hear the cat bouncing off the walls in the next room. I have the door shut, to keep him from roaming and to be quite frank,... for my own safety. I have learned the hard way not to go barefoot, or wear shorts....all body parts much be covered at all times. Just reaching down to give a little pet has the kitten jumping in a ninja like pounce on my arm while kicking and biting the heck out of it. A stern worded "NO", only makes him consider a different approach for the attack. I think I am the only woman in Nebraska who sits, sweating under a wrapped up blanket in 100 degree weather, to ward off the sharp claws and bites of a maniacal kitten.
I have yet to hear him purr....when do kittens purr? I thought all kittens purred from the get go. I have heard tiny mews, hisses, spitting, and the galloping thud of little feet tearing thru the house. I wanted a house cat. A nice,... sitting in your lap to pet... house cat,...I think that notion is a pipe dream. Stinkpot will most likely end up being an outside cat where I can feel more assured of the safety of my furniture and of me. The only thing that prevents me from giving him the boot outside is I think he is too small....and fear. Fear that I will hear from my neighbors of how the were out working in their yards and the kitten ran up and bit them, or attacked their rottweiler fluffy. I am having visions of the kitten as it gets bigger and being afraid to go outside myself. Each morning I will stick my head out the door and take a cautious look around before running like mad for the car with my keys in hand.... Hoping beyond all hope I will make it before I am mowed down in my own driveway by a killer cat.
He is so darn cute....but cuteness is not gonna cut it any more. I am going to have to be more diligent in his care. Somehow just sticking a litterbox, catfood and a few toys in his room is not helping him live up to his potential. I am just going to have to get use to wearing layers of clothes and oven mitts that go up to my elbows when dealing with the stinker. I am sure that given time and a lot of patience (mainly on my part) I can get him to be a more civil cat....and if that is not the case, beware of any boxes left on your doorstep in the dead of night..... Don't worry I will leave you the oven mitts....
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