Rrrrrrrmeow!

I took my cats to the vet a couple of weeks ago to discover that they are a little overweight. Each one is only one pound overweight, but when you consider that they only weigh 9 and 10 pounds....that's a lot.

So we have begun the process of kitty food regulation. Until now, they have always free fed, but now they get regimented amounts of food two times per day.

And they are very sassy about this change.

I have two cats: Mama Schmee and Nubia. Nubia doesn't mind much--she is a pretty easygoing creature. Mama, on the other hand, has a lot to say about the fact that she is no longer in control of how much she eats each day.

I suppose that having the dog has contributed to their mischief lately, too. Whatever the factors, they have been very naughty cats recently.

They are not supposed to get up on the kitchen counter. We have always had a little battle of the wills when it comes to Mama and the counter, but in the past few months, she has become fearless. She will jump up and then turn around and look at me as if to say, "What are you gonna do about it?"

And so we have instigated the water spray technique, to try to dissuade her from doing things she is not supposed to do. When she jumps up on the counter, we spray water (not at her, just next to her), and she goes scurrying away angrily.

But my cats are smart.

They know that the counter keeps them safe from Luna, who can't figure out that they are not fluffy little dogs.




They also know that the kitchen counter gets them very close to the only South-facing window in the house and a perfect view of the bird, squirrel, and grass-filled backyard. Mama craves grass. She needs her grass.

Whenever she escapes out the back door, she takes one look back at us and then lets out a high pitched, "Rrrrrrrmeow!" and scuttles to the edge of the deck and hops off the six foot drop. Every. Single. Time. (I wonder if she has ever considered taking the steps. It would be so much easier on her knees.)

These days she doesn't escape so often because we have learned to squeeze through while blocking the lower half of the opening. Mama has a leash and harness now, so that I can take her outside to eat grass to her heart's content while regulating her whereabouts and the neighborhood birds. But she still tries to escape, and in those occasional moments where she is successful, it's always the same peek back and "Rrrrrrrmeow!" and a hop off the deck. Where she obediently stops and waits for me to take the steps and begrudgingly collect her furry mass and toss her back inside (after I let her eat a little grass, because I'm a softie).

Last fall, there was an evening where Stacia and I were rushing around trying to get ready to go a friend's party. I had recently seen both cats hanging around the living room, but did one more look just to make sure everyone was accounted for. Nubia was there, but where was Mama? I couldn't find her, but I knew I had just seen her, and there was no way she was outside. So I shrugged it off and assumed she was sleeping under a piece of furniture or something, and off we went to our party.

I came home first. I think I wasn't feeling well or something, and left early. When I got home, Nubia was waiting for me at the door. Hmmm....where was Mama now?

I patrolled the house, on alert for the other cat, but I couldn't find her anywhere. Finally I decided to check outside, just in case.

I opened up the back door, and there she was, sitting on the deck in the dark, waiting patiently to be let in.

"How in the hell did you get out?" I asked her, stunned.

She did not respond because she cannot talk.

Instead she made that noise that is somewhere in between a kitty growl and a purr and walked inside.

And then I saw the screen. Not only had she clawed holes in the screen, but she had pushed the screen out and bent the corner so that she could squeeze through the opening and hop onto the deck. I'm not sure I could have done that. It was a fantastic feat of strength, and however angry I was, I was also a little chuffed at my cat's amazing resourcefulness and, I'll admit it, slightly impressed.

And now, six months later, the screen is still broken, and I recently got the Talk of Shame from my landlord/girlfriend regarding keeping my cats under control around her windows this year.

Looks like I'll be purchasing and installing a new screen, ladies and gentlemen. Or at the very least attempting some serious behavior modification training with my stubborn, adorable cats.

(And, by the way, this is an old photo, when they could fit into their skinny jeans. Now they are...a little more teddy-bear-like, you might politely say.)