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Dingle Mouse takes it for the team
Jun. 27th, 2007 11:50 pmDas Kittah (Untitled #1), who still lacks a name, has proven herself to be entirely unfazeable. She is litterbox-trained, which is a major positive. Unlike many kittens, she has had absolutely no adjustment period of hiding under things and watching us. From the first moment she entered the house, she has owned the place. Almost constantly purring, she demands more or less constant attention, but not because she craves affection; more because she prefers to be entertained at all times. When she cries, it is not in distress, but more because she enjoys the sound of it and has nothing else to entertain herself with.
When we come home, having left her alone for 8 or 9 hours, she doesn't come running right away, but when she does, it is with an air of delight but not desperation.
One thing is capable of captivating her for ridiculous amounts of time: Dingle Mouse. He is a vaguely mouse-shaped ball of rabbit fur, with a colored tail, suspended from an elastic string on a plastic "fishing pole", with a small metal jingle bell attached to the string about an inch above him. I could wedge this pole between my mattress and box spring, dingle the mouse once, and then listen to her play for a solid fifteen minutes without pause. Occasionally she will notice that no one is playing with her, and then she will sit and cry until someone dingles the mouse again. But she can go a very long time on her own with this mouse, and what's more important is that she can be immediately, thoroughly, and lastingly distracted from anything else by a single jingle of the dingle mouse.
For example, dinner.
She is awful at dinnertime. She just gets right up on the table and dives into your plate of food. She climbed my arm and shoved her snout into my bagel the first morning she was here. Z sits there and scoops her up and throws her on the floor, and he has not even completed the gesture before she is climbing back up onto the table.
But tonight, I jingled Dingle Mouse at her just before Z set dinner down on the table. And she did not hesitate, but dove after Dingle Mouse, and I kept it wiggling slightly throughout dinner. She never even looked at the table.
This morning I had trouble getting out the door, so she wanted to follow me out. Z scooped her up and distracted her. How did he leave, I asked later, in his turn? "Dingle Mouse," he said. "Took one for the team."
She is the cutest kitten ever, and more self-possessed than most.
I have a collection of numbers for vets and meant to make an appointment today to get her checked up and get her shots and stuff, but we ate dinner immediately upon arrival home, and then I zonked out thoroughly on the couch, and only awoke around midnight. So, er, tomorrow I'll call the vet...
When we come home, having left her alone for 8 or 9 hours, she doesn't come running right away, but when she does, it is with an air of delight but not desperation.
One thing is capable of captivating her for ridiculous amounts of time: Dingle Mouse. He is a vaguely mouse-shaped ball of rabbit fur, with a colored tail, suspended from an elastic string on a plastic "fishing pole", with a small metal jingle bell attached to the string about an inch above him. I could wedge this pole between my mattress and box spring, dingle the mouse once, and then listen to her play for a solid fifteen minutes without pause. Occasionally she will notice that no one is playing with her, and then she will sit and cry until someone dingles the mouse again. But she can go a very long time on her own with this mouse, and what's more important is that she can be immediately, thoroughly, and lastingly distracted from anything else by a single jingle of the dingle mouse.
For example, dinner.
She is awful at dinnertime. She just gets right up on the table and dives into your plate of food. She climbed my arm and shoved her snout into my bagel the first morning she was here. Z sits there and scoops her up and throws her on the floor, and he has not even completed the gesture before she is climbing back up onto the table.
But tonight, I jingled Dingle Mouse at her just before Z set dinner down on the table. And she did not hesitate, but dove after Dingle Mouse, and I kept it wiggling slightly throughout dinner. She never even looked at the table.
This morning I had trouble getting out the door, so she wanted to follow me out. Z scooped her up and distracted her. How did he leave, I asked later, in his turn? "Dingle Mouse," he said. "Took one for the team."
She is the cutest kitten ever, and more self-possessed than most.
I have a collection of numbers for vets and meant to make an appointment today to get her checked up and get her shots and stuff, but we ate dinner immediately upon arrival home, and then I zonked out thoroughly on the couch, and only awoke around midnight. So, er, tomorrow I'll call the vet...
