dragonlady7 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonlady7) wrote2007-08-29 08:50 am
dragonlady7) wrote2007-08-29 08:50 am
honeymoon over? also, Invisible Catfish
This morning Chita wanted me to wake up at 10 to 6. This would have annoyed me a great deal more if I didn’t have an alarm set reminding myself to get up at 10 after 6 to finish a column for this week’s paper.
I got up (after ignoring her for 20 minutes so she didn’t think it was her idea), much to her delight, and gave her kisses and cuddles and played with her a bit. I had breakfast, which I don’t usually, and gave her a little bit of milk from my cereal bowl—a special treat. I wandered around the house and indulged her delight when I peeked at her around doors.
Then, procrastinating on the article, I did all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and started the dishwasher. (Am I good or what? I need more writing gigs so I can get my house cleaned more often.)
In the midst of this, at 7 am she decided Z should be awake, and went and peed on him.
This is the first bad thing Chita has ever done, and we really didn’t know how to react. Z, mostly asleep, just said, “…hey!” and threw her off the bed. I grabbed her, shouted at her, marched her downstairs, and chucked her in her litterbox, shouting “BAD!” all the while.
I immediately washed the wet part of the down comforter with strong-scented lavender lingerie soap that doesn’t need rinsing, figuring that would be most likely to get the urine smell out and not screw up the dry-clean-only comforter. Though perhaps we should get it cleaned—the thing is disgusting in general. Men are stinky. But I digress.
Stripped the bed, sent Z to my bed (he just got up, instead), and washed everything. Of course I’d just changed the sheets—that sort of thing never happens when you were going to change the bedding anyway.
Why would she do that? She wasn’t being neglected—I was awake and paying attention to her if she wanted it. Her litterbox wasn’t exactly clean, but it wasn’t as dirty as we’ve let it get sometimes in the past (hey, we forget—we’re new at this and it’s out of sight in the basement). I’d even fed her! What on earth? Could she have just gotten carried away while playing and been confused? But she’s never done this before—not even when she accidentally got locked in his bedroom for what must’ve been hours while we weren’t home. She held it until we let her out, and then happily went and peed in her litterbox.
A female kitten I had in college used to do this—used to pee on soft things. She liked blankets and beds. She once peed on me one morning when she was playing with her brother on my bed and I didn’t get up to play with them. (I caught her while she was still peeing and turned her upside down so she peed all over herself. The bitch. I have fast reflexes first thing in the goddamn morning, when it comes to urination. Maybe I am cut out for motherhood.) But we’d figured there were other issues going on—there was an old drop-cloth in the basement somewhat near her litterbox and she, unbeknownst to us, had taken to peeing on it when their litterbox was dirty, so she got in the habit of peeing on blankets without being punished. Chita has no excuse like this—I’ve been watching for that sort of thing and routinely sniff-test isolated bits of the house on the off-chance she’s getting Ideas.
Anyway, I hope it’s an isolated incident.
She’s also taken to sniffing guys’ crotches intently, which is a bit embarrassing but mostly funny. I suppose she’s not gay?
Anyway, other than that she remains lovely, though she clawed me a bit last night while attempting to destroy a toy mousie hiding in the couch cushions beside me…
Ugh. Anyway.
Z’s interview went well yesterday; we’ll see how that goes.
I did finish my article so there will be something, not a restaurant review! in the upcoming issue.
We need to go grocery shopping.
More, we need to get back to work on painting. It’s now been the better part of a week since we did any work, and the time we can have the windows open is dwindling!
Also IKEA has mattresses on sale at the moment and I want to go get one before they go off sale. I have until September 9th. We should probably just do this. Ack, this weekend’s a holiday, though. The border will be insane… Oh well. We’ll think of something.
One more weird thing. While the living room is being painted, poor Plecosaurus is living in a bright orange Home Depot bucket in the basement. With no filter, argh. We need to get his tank sorted out. But anyway—plecos are pretty hardy. While cleaning Chita’s litterbox this morning (thanks for the reminder), I remembered to feed him. I went over and… there was nothing in the bucket!
In alarm, I shook the bucket slightly. I immediately felt Pleco scrape the side as he rocketed off around the bucket in his usual panic. But I saw nothing.
He had already gone pale in there, as plecostomus catfish have limited camouflage ability. But now he has turned himself completely orange!
I will try to get a picture when we move him back to his normal tank. I want to see him orange! At the moment I haven’t a hope, as he’s entirely invisible. But I know he’s in there—first off, he can’t have gotten out, and second off, I felt him scraping around.
Weird. Eerie. (I did feed him. And I’ll make sure the food gets eaten. Invisible catfish!)
I got up (after ignoring her for 20 minutes so she didn’t think it was her idea), much to her delight, and gave her kisses and cuddles and played with her a bit. I had breakfast, which I don’t usually, and gave her a little bit of milk from my cereal bowl—a special treat. I wandered around the house and indulged her delight when I peeked at her around doors.
Then, procrastinating on the article, I did all the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and started the dishwasher. (Am I good or what? I need more writing gigs so I can get my house cleaned more often.)
In the midst of this, at 7 am she decided Z should be awake, and went and peed on him.
This is the first bad thing Chita has ever done, and we really didn’t know how to react. Z, mostly asleep, just said, “…hey!” and threw her off the bed. I grabbed her, shouted at her, marched her downstairs, and chucked her in her litterbox, shouting “BAD!” all the while.
I immediately washed the wet part of the down comforter with strong-scented lavender lingerie soap that doesn’t need rinsing, figuring that would be most likely to get the urine smell out and not screw up the dry-clean-only comforter. Though perhaps we should get it cleaned—the thing is disgusting in general. Men are stinky. But I digress.
Stripped the bed, sent Z to my bed (he just got up, instead), and washed everything. Of course I’d just changed the sheets—that sort of thing never happens when you were going to change the bedding anyway.
Why would she do that? She wasn’t being neglected—I was awake and paying attention to her if she wanted it. Her litterbox wasn’t exactly clean, but it wasn’t as dirty as we’ve let it get sometimes in the past (hey, we forget—we’re new at this and it’s out of sight in the basement). I’d even fed her! What on earth? Could she have just gotten carried away while playing and been confused? But she’s never done this before—not even when she accidentally got locked in his bedroom for what must’ve been hours while we weren’t home. She held it until we let her out, and then happily went and peed in her litterbox.
A female kitten I had in college used to do this—used to pee on soft things. She liked blankets and beds. She once peed on me one morning when she was playing with her brother on my bed and I didn’t get up to play with them. (I caught her while she was still peeing and turned her upside down so she peed all over herself. The bitch. I have fast reflexes first thing in the goddamn morning, when it comes to urination. Maybe I am cut out for motherhood.) But we’d figured there were other issues going on—there was an old drop-cloth in the basement somewhat near her litterbox and she, unbeknownst to us, had taken to peeing on it when their litterbox was dirty, so she got in the habit of peeing on blankets without being punished. Chita has no excuse like this—I’ve been watching for that sort of thing and routinely sniff-test isolated bits of the house on the off-chance she’s getting Ideas.
Anyway, I hope it’s an isolated incident.
She’s also taken to sniffing guys’ crotches intently, which is a bit embarrassing but mostly funny. I suppose she’s not gay?
Anyway, other than that she remains lovely, though she clawed me a bit last night while attempting to destroy a toy mousie hiding in the couch cushions beside me…
Ugh. Anyway.
Z’s interview went well yesterday; we’ll see how that goes.
I did finish my article so there will be something, not a restaurant review! in the upcoming issue.
We need to go grocery shopping.
More, we need to get back to work on painting. It’s now been the better part of a week since we did any work, and the time we can have the windows open is dwindling!
Also IKEA has mattresses on sale at the moment and I want to go get one before they go off sale. I have until September 9th. We should probably just do this. Ack, this weekend’s a holiday, though. The border will be insane… Oh well. We’ll think of something.
One more weird thing. While the living room is being painted, poor Plecosaurus is living in a bright orange Home Depot bucket in the basement. With no filter, argh. We need to get his tank sorted out. But anyway—plecos are pretty hardy. While cleaning Chita’s litterbox this morning (thanks for the reminder), I remembered to feed him. I went over and… there was nothing in the bucket!
In alarm, I shook the bucket slightly. I immediately felt Pleco scrape the side as he rocketed off around the bucket in his usual panic. But I saw nothing.
He had already gone pale in there, as plecostomus catfish have limited camouflage ability. But now he has turned himself completely orange!
I will try to get a picture when we move him back to his normal tank. I want to see him orange! At the moment I haven’t a hope, as he’s entirely invisible. But I know he’s in there—first off, he can’t have gotten out, and second off, I felt him scraping around.
Weird. Eerie. (I did feed him. And I’ll make sure the food gets eaten. Invisible catfish!)
no subject
no subject
I thought right away that I should take a picture, but then I realized, a picture of an invisible fish wouldn't be very exciting.
no subject
None of my girls has ever done that, but the boys are a completely different story. Both Phrixus and Orpheus (cousins) have sprayed on me, and lately Garfield has been *pooping* on my bed, on the exact same spot, when I'm late in letting me out. I've caught him straining to produce more poop after he's already done it in his box, just to "show me", I guess. And given his age and state, I find it hard to yell at him or chastise him.
To get rid of the smell from the mattress: Sprinkle the spot with sodium bicarbonate - cooking soda (powder), let it sit for a couple of hours, then vacuum it away. I have a container with scented oil-perfumed soda for such cases.
If she does that again, you might want to look into the litter you use. Some cats don't like scented litter or if it's too thick it hurts their paws.
Or perhaps she wanted to get Z's attention. ;)
no subject
I think she either wanted attention or got so caught up in playing that she forgot to go downstairs. I'm not sure though. I hope she was just distracted, or something. But in the past she's abruptly left off playing with us and run away and come back with litter on her paws, so I know she's dealt with distraction before and knows to do the right thing. Hmph.
I am very worried that she might do something like what you're describing Garfield doing-- that sort of spiteful behavior is what I most earnestly want to avoid.