911, the cat we're sitting, has a reputation for viciousness. The contracters next door avoid him, the book-keeper talks to but does not pet him, and we, for this first month or so we've lived here, treated him like a large, furry grenade.
Over time, however, his attitude towards us has warmed and mellowed. When he hears us at the door, he comes and meows us welcome. When I'm writing, he sits as close as possible, preferably on my computer to some degree, and swats at my typing fingers. He purs like crazy when we pet him, and when he tires of petting, he swats at our hands claws in (an unheard of concession when first we met). And though he never deigns to come with us when we go to bed, he's always there curled up at our feet when we wake.
The secret? Beef jerkey.
The consequence? A Hindenberg of a cat.
We've put him on a bit of a diet. Jerkey only as a special treat, only small bits of dry food in the morning and evening. But Oh! does he whine. Oh! does he meow. He sees beef jerkey as his due, and he is (very nearly) willing to scale the heighest heights to get it from us. Luckily, is just too fat and lazy to climb the shelf it's on.
He's watching me as I type this. All kibble and no jerky makes nine a grouchy kitty. All kibble and no jerky makes nine a grouchy kitty. All kibble and no jerky....
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2 comments:
It sounds like we're both having cat issues lately. My kitty set one of my birds free this morning, but thankfully he hadn't eaten her by the time I got to the scene of the crime. We think he just took that measure because he's spoiled and thinks his dry kibble is some kind of punishment.
eep! bad kitty!
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