Part 14

Part of what makes us human is our capacity to wonder. And wondering about who would win fights between different types of animals is frankly as human as it gets. Like a silverback gorilla fighting a Bengal tiger?
Wow! Would Jane Goodall get to help the gorilla?And could the fight be staged “in the mist”? Gorillas love this weather condition and the tiger would have a hard time seeing...But I digress. The battle I want to discuss is another dream match-up. Kitten Vs. Ant. I know, I know, the size difference alone is huge. But ants have legendary strength and can carry leaves above their heads. And lest you think this amazing battle is theory only, let me tell you it actually happens. Daily. Here’s how. An ant will be minding it’s own business and crossing the livingroom floor and one of the boys will spot it. This is fascinating for them! A spot that moves!
And the battle begins. The kitten pounces around the ant. The ant sees the enormous furry monster and stops moving. Smart. No movement equals no fun for a kitten. So they walk away. The ant starts back on its
way and the kitten sees movement again and cuffs it around like an very very tiny soccer ball. But who wins? Well, sometimes the kitten will swallow its opponent. Game over. And then the Big Cat sings “I know an
Old Lady who swallowed a Fly” - but with special lyrics that mock kittens. Very funny to the Big Cat. Kittens don’t seem to find it funny at all.

Often I consider myself just a large human scratching post for my young furry charges. But sometimes our relationship deepens in a significant way. Like this morning. There I was sitting reading the sports section, as is my ritual. And the kittens were performing their usual morning routine –running up and down my legs. When suddenly they stopped and glanced over my shoulder. Something had clearly grabbed their attention.
The basketball scores from last night? Hardly. It was a story about the Chicago Blackhawks being forced to reconsider their name by aboriginal people who found the depiction of the logo and the name Blackhawks, racist and demeaning. Rooney thoughtfully patted the image of Bobby Hull with his paw. Rufus uttered a deep and soulful , “Ek!” Clearly this story had real resonance for the boys. But why stop there, they seemed to suggest, as they stared at me accusingly. What about all the sports teams that carelessly appropriated cats names as their team nicknames? I was seized by a sudden vision of Rooney with little cat reading glasses on, seated behind a table in a courtroom launching a class action law suit against the Detroit Lions, the Florida Panthers, the Charlotte Bobcats and the Detroit Tigers (wait, Detroit has 2 offending team names!) “Ek”, he says solemnly into the microphone. People in the courthouse nod in agreement – ya, why should humans be allowed to use cat names in a brazen and disrespectful manner for their stupid sports teams?!!! Right then, Rufus inserted a razer sharp claw into my leg. Damn. I’ve got to stop this drinking first thing in the morning, I thought.

Part Twelve

Dr. Frankenstein had his moments of regret. After all, despite creating life, he also created a rampaging monster. After last night, the Big Cat knows how the good doctor felt. But let me back up. Last night I had a CAMH dinner that kept me out most of the evening – I got home at 10:30. As regular readers of the Kitten Chronicles know, this means no cuddling – my arrival signals the opening bell on a non-stop kitten wrestling match. Biting, pouncing, chasing, and general treachery are all skills that are being honed. But for what?, I started to think. The answer came to me quickly. So they can be furry killing machines. Deadly to mice, birds, other cats who mistakenly enter their territory... Innocent play? No. Training for devastation and destruction. The boys have a new trick – running up the inside of my jeans. This has resulted in my legs looking like I’ve beenballroom dancing through a barbed wire fence. Combine these hundreds of small punctures with the salt in the sweat produced by our current heat wave -and you get severe discomfort. I believe they use this kind of torture on 24. Jack Bauer holds a kitten in each hand while questioning the suspected terrorist. They give up the information immediately. For the time being I can controlthese feline assassins – they only weigh about a pound and a half. But what happens when they grow to full size? Maybe some sliding bolts on the bedroom door will keep them at bay. Or a tazer. Where can you buy those things anyway? TazerMart?

Part Eleben

So little time. So many places to sleep. This is the secret life of a kitten as revealed by a 4 day weekend. The Big Cat got a very good opportunity to observe kitten behaviour and frankly it’s not what I thought at all.I had imagined that as soon as I left the house they tore around pouncing on each other running up and down the stairs at breakneck speed and just carrying on like little furry speed freaks all day long. Not so.Instead they live a leisurely and very sedate life moving from sleeping place to sleeping place. In the morning, they sleep on the landing, because the sun comes in through the skylight. Later in the afternoon, they might hurl their little furry bodies at the door of the office – force it open – and sleep on the loveseat. Late afternoons and early evenings is now leather recliner chair time – maybe they like the cool feel of the leather as the house heats up. Come to think of it who doesn’t? This explains fully the fantastic amount of energy they have when I come in the house. My entry turns them from sleepy loafers into twin Tazmanian devils. Their latest game is “King of the Obusform”. In this very challenging game, the aim is to successfully stay perched on top of the Obusform back support on the leather chair. Of course this is way more challenging when the other kitten is climbing up to knock you off. Both kittens go round and round the outside of the back support in this manner – at high speed. Very tiring to watch. I think I need a nap.

Pat Ten

All along I’ve been living with Sam’s comforting mantra in my mind, “they’re kittens, they’re not that strong”. Well that no longer holds true. The boys are feelin’ stronger every day, as the song goes.Saturday they had breached the barricade between the kitchen and the front door. They figured out how to jam their claws in the corkboard and vault over. Yikes! This means they have access to the most sacred of all rooms – the living room! I have doubled the size of the barricade to try and hold them at bay – but it’s only a matter of time until they control every room in the house. Yesterday they figured out that if they lean on the door of your Mother’s office – the door opens! Ack! On Sunday, Sam and I took the boys on a big adventure – a trip to the backyard. At first outside was overwhelming to them. They just stood and smelled the air for the first 5 minutes. Grass was weird to walk in – it pokes your soft underbelly if you’re a kitten. But the plus is you can eat it. After a little bewilderment Rooney became very adventurous and went under the porch – this made Sam and I very nervous as I was convinced their was a raccoon under there (well, OK, there used to be – I swear!) After about a half an hour of high anxiety (for the kitten minders, not the kittens) we decided to end the experiment before we lost a kitten. I don’t know if the Big Cat can stand the stress of worrying about the welfare of outdoor cats. Sigh....

Part Nine (Lives)

Got home after dinner with Chuck last night to a phone message from my Mother. “I thought you may have trained the boys to answer the phone by now.’ Well, this is too much to expect from a kitten. They happily answer the door. But the phone? It boggles the mind. Here’s what it would sound like. Ring.... Caller: Hello?.. Kitten: Eeek ...Caller: Who is this? ...Kitten: Eeek ...Caller: Is this Rooney or Rufus?.. Kitten: Eeek... Caller: Is the Big Cat in? ...Kitten: Eeek ...Caller: Is that yes or no to the last question?... Kitten: Eeek... Caller (getting impatient now): Could you just put the Big Cat on the phone!! ..Kitten: Eeek .....This last Eeek is followed by the sounds of a Sleeman Cream Ale bottle cap skittering across the floor as the hopelessly distracted kitten, who had gone to get me, decides instead to chase the bottle cap across the kitchen floor (way more fun!).Finally, after 3 hours of holding for the Big Cat and hearing nothing but EeeK!! and the scrabbling of kitten claws on a hardwood floor, the caller hangs up in disgust. The worst part? The Kitten forgets to give me the message. So you can see this would not work at all. And forget about the kittens writing their own blog. Just the sight of the mouse would drive them into a frenzy of playfulness. They’d forget to even turn the computer on. Kitten bloggers? I don’t think so. Plus, they’d definitely forget to hit “Save”. My job is safe.

Part Ocho

Do kittens appreciate a change in scenery? This is the bold theory we will be testing today. And it’s all due to the fact that the cleaning lady is coming. This forced a decision. And spawned an experiment. I figured rather than risk a kitten getting vacuumed up (if both got vacuumed up it would be OK because they would just continue to fight inside the vacuum cleaner bag until their razor sharp claws had ripped it to shreds)I thought I’d better contain them in a smaller room. The study/office seemed to be a good candidate. No beds to destroy. Sturdy plastic mats on the floor. And even a love seat to sleep on. Then the Big Cat set out to work his sneaky plan. First, just open the door to this previously “forbidden” room. Then being hopelessly curious kittens they ran inside. Idiots. They fell into my trap. Then I quickly moved their food and litter box inside, shut the door – and let the great experiment begin. However, if the cleaning lady disregards the note and opens the door all bets are off. Conclusion: Big Cat is smart. Kittens, not so much? We’ll see.

Part Seben

The Big Cat is a Deadbeat Dad! It’s true. He stays out all night catting around and comes home smelling of beer and peanuts. Still the boys give their warm greeting, Eek!And then run circles around my feet. Rooney has watched his brother and learned. Climbing up the Big Cat’s jeans as he tries to read his mail in the dark is fun. Each kitten has his own leg to climb and they race up to waist height before they are carefully removed. Everything is exciting when you’re a kitten. The sound of their litter box being scooped out brings them running to play in that same litter box as the Big Cat tries to improve the air quality in the house. What with lilacs, blooming hoyas and scented kitty litter, the place smells like the perfume department at the Bay gone horribly wrong. The boys don’t care, they just want to play in the litter box. I’ve noticed something about their kitten food, too. When you pour it in the bowl it’s big and puffed up. And when it sits in the bowl all day it seems to dry out and become tiny and hard. Odd. The boys like their kitten chow fresh and puffed up so I’m constantly refilling their bowl.. Soon they will be bigger than the Big Cat – then the trouble will start. EeK!

Part Sept

After a week of living with the boys I believe I am beginning to understand their language. Here’s a few interpretations. A sharp EEK! translates to “brace yourself!!! I’m attacking”. This is used before charging into the fort, charging across the floor and then on top of the other kitten and of course, charging up my pants when I’m standing up. EEK EEK EEK!! Translates to “he’s hurting me”. Used when one has the other down and is biting him viciously on the tail. A mild Eek Eek is a greeting that means “good Morning, Big Cat, nice to see you”. They have now abandoned the need to keep one sleepy eye on my bedroom (sleeping on a stair) and instead are sleeping in splendid comfort on the big chair in front of the book shelf.

Part Sink

Last night a nurse was coming to do blood tests for an insurance policy Al wants us each to have re the Pilot. So I couldn’t eat or drink until she had done my blood work. Watching the boys chow down on their kibble made me jealous. Finally the nurse got there and began to extract vial after vial of my blood. The boys, as if they knew something was going on, were mewling like crazy and putting their paws under the door of the livingroom door in a wonderful show of support for the Big Cat – their leader. Maybe it was my pathetic mewling in response to being stuck with a needle that aroused their concern. When I finally got back in the TV room it was straight back to the kitten WWF. And they ended up completely exhausted and sleeping on top of each other on the couch by 10. Wimps.

Part Cat

First day with live witnesses to bizarre kitten behaviour. Lee and Bee arrived for dinner last night and beat me home. This meant new human stimulation for the boys. Very exciting. It also meant that they ran around like little furry speed-freaks for over 3 hours with predictable results. By the 2nd period (or for those of you following ANTM – the first elimination) Rooney was completely bagged and was sleeping peacefully on the couch beside Lee. This of course meant it was the perfect time for an attack by Rufus. My witnesses can attest to the fury of the popular Attack the Fort game. When they were leaving Rooney and Rufus were both biting each others heads and pummeling the other guys’ face with their back paws. Much EEEKKING!! Both the boys were so exhausted by the intensity of 3 hours of non-stop fighting (with occasional breaks to jab their tiny razor-sharp claws into Bee’s leg through her tights) plus the excitement of the Hab’s and Krista’s victory they feel asleep on the couch. Not curled up like kittens. But stretched out like miniature lions. As I went upstairs to bed Rufus opened one eye to watch the Big Cat depart. But he couldn’t keep it open. Night, boys.

Part Three

Had a Pilot meeting last night so I got home at 9:15 – very late for the boys. Still no accidents. Pheeeeeeew. Now with less “play time” ‘til my 11 p.m. Bedtime, everything is compressed. The boys are super energetic and charge around play fighting all over the room – it’s like they’ve been sleeping all day. They run up and down my legs (I change into my “cat suit” - long-sleeved sweatshirt (to fend off scratches) and jeans they like to climb up. Oooopps! no socks. Now, I have scratch marks on my ankles. The boys are too rev’d up to lie down on top of me – it’s fightin’ time! A favourite past time that never gets old is “Kitten in a box”.One kitten goes in the box we brought them in the car with. Then the other kitten tries to attack the “fort”. Sometimes he just charges in the cardboard door I made and tries to bowl over his brother. This tact is always accompanied by a fearsome squeek EEEKKK! To startle the other guy. Or the other tactic is to surprise the guy inside the box by climbing in over the top and jumping on him – very effective!This morning only Rooney was on the step asleep when I came out of the bedroom. As soon as the door made a sound Rufus charged us the steps to greet me – I guess he’s the early riser of the pair.

Part two

We are settling into a pattern as of day 2. Again, no “accidents” (in fact they are using their litter box very well). When I walk in the door they run to greet me – very excited that the Big Cat is home.In new developments Rufus now believes it is OK to crawl up my jeans when I’m standing in the kitchen trying to make dinner. And why not, he figures? It’s OK to climb up my legs when I’m sitting down in the chair. We now have about 2 hours of very vigorous play – running up and down my legs, play fighting and chasing each other – the energy level is high! Then by 10 pm Rufus is totally exhausted and falls asleep on my lap.Rooney who still wants to play, runs up my leg and attacks him.

Also in new developments, I have to remember to wear a long –sleeved shirt because my arms are now a patchwork quilt of tiny scratches. Last night they slept in a heap in the last step before the landing (not on the landing). From there they can see the door to the bedroom and the room below. When I open the door in the morning they run up the stairs in a very groggy disoriented state to greet me. So far balls of tinfoil and crumbled up newspaper (plus, the wind-up Bear playing the banjo – which goes off randomly and scares the hell out of all 3 of us) are endlesslyamusing (very tiny brains those kittens). May have to pick up some cat toys for next week.

Part One

Their names are Rooney and Rufus(Roo-face). And yes they are very happy in their new home. As soon as I got them in the door they went to the bowl and ate. Apparently the trip made them very hungry. Then they went exploring. When I got back from Nana’s I found they had gotten into the cabinet under the TV and had knocked some games on the floor – but that was it – no accidents. They love the stairs and I think they slept on the stairs last night (not in their box where I put them). The big activity last night was running up my legs, both of them and then hopping along the sofa arm to the couch. Then they would play fight on my legs – all of which occurred while I was trying to watch Breaking Bad. There’s a lot of mewlling – they talk to me a lot and tend to follow me like I’m a Mother duck. So far so cute.