S.P. Update...

 A couple of you have inquired about my cat Stink Pot, so today I thought I would give a small update on the cat and also because I am brain dead on a subject to blog about. It is hard to believe it was just August when I acquired the little mite. That little mite has grown by leaps and bounds, in fact, I am afraid if she grows that much in two months time, what size will she be in a year? I don't think they have a Jenny Craig for cats. It's not that she is really fat either, she is just big boned. Well she really isn't big boned either, but it sounds better than saying boy you are getting huge kitty.

I would like to be able to report that I have things totally under control and she now behaves and listens to my every command, but that wouldn't quite be the truth. Quite frankly she is as mean and stubborn as ever with a mind of her own. I think she secretly relishes sticking her claws into me and biting. She loves to chew.....and chew...and chew. Her favorite things to gnaw on are the paper guide on the computer printer, wicker, shoelaces, paper, and me (not necessarily in that order). My phone book is missing several listings in the top right hand corner as well as a few yellow pages...but paper is a good source of fiber isn't it?....

I know the poor kitty is probably teething and I am hoping she will grow out of this stage of chewing and biting. I did take the suggestion about using a squirt gun filled with water to try and "train" her from jumping up and scratching and biting. So far I have had some mixed results. First off I have to remember to pack my pistol with me all the time, I forget to do that a lot and so I am blaming part of the failure on my inconsistency. Once I do remember and give her a squirt from the gun she runs off and then tries to sneak around for a rear attack. That is when I whip around and point the squirt gun at her and scold her with, "I have a gun, and I will use it". One of my biggest fears is that the neighbors will stop by and be poised to knock at the door and hear me say that to the cat. I have visions of them running off to call 911 before I can explain it's not a real gun and it's the cat I want to shoot and not them.

I am happy to report though that we have been playing games and I ALMOST have her trained to fetch. I will throw a wadded up piece of paper, cellophane, or some small object and she will tear off to chase that object. She will pounce, bite, and thrust her hind legs at it, kicking as hard as she can. (She also does this when she has a hold of my arm). I will yell for her to bring it back to me so I can throw the object again. She trots back, empty-handed of course, swishes her tail, plops down and looks at me and then at the item of interest. After a few moments of this "stand off", I will go retrieve the item to throw to her again, and we will play this scenario over and over for as long as I am willing to throw and retrieve the object. It makes me wonder just who is training who in this little game. Either way it's making me tired running back and forth to appease the cat.

I am having mixed feelings on what to do with the cat. I had originally thought Stink Pot would be an outdoor cat. In fact I think she is going to be an excellent mouser, she stalks everything. The other day I brought home a bag of potatoes and left the bag sitting next to the sink on the floor. It was something new, something different and something evidently the cat didn't like. She sniffed....she swatted...she spat at the bag of potatoes. She continued to do it every time she walked by. It was the next day that I noticed a hole she had chewed in the bag. I don't know what the offending potato did, but I am sure she let that potato know who was boss.

I am hoping that as time goes on she will mend her ways and be a bit more docile or at least ease up a bit on the biting. Thankfully it is getting cooler now so I have an excuse for wearing long sleeves and it's not just to cover up the little marks left behind of her "tough love" for me. At least I think it's love,... or like,... or fondness...or it could just be a fondness for being a stink pot.