Clementines and Pigeons

Happy December 2nd my friends!

Despite that it is home to both Christmas and my birthday, December is by far one of the most depressing months of the year for me.  Anyone who is still finishing some form of postsecondary education knows why December is a depressing month.  And for those of you who are unfortunate enough to have your birthday falling anywhere from... I would say today until the 21, are very aware of my pain. 

Even if you personally don't have any exams on or right after your birthday, and are free to go out and have some fun, you are pretty much guaranteed to be having a party of one.

Anyway, today I am not going to tell you anything new about Kitten.  I noticed that there are a couple of post that I wrote a while back that didn't get a lot of attention that I think are quite funny.  

If you missed them, take a look!

... and they came and they left tokens of their appreciation.

This is the story about how a loaf of bread from a failed attempt to make a sandwich out of Kitten turned my balcony into a mecca for pigeons.

Clementine: Tasty Treat or Enemy?

This is a video of Kitten eating a clementine.  He manages to pick it up with his paw to lick it.  It is weird.

[Fun Fact: On this day in 1969, the Boeing 747 made it's debute -- In case you cared]

Survival of the Fittest: Video Edition

I am artificially keeping Kitten alive.  No, this does not mean that I have Kitten hooked up to some sort of cat life-support system with a morphine drip and feeding tube (though I have given Kitten morphine before).  What I mean is, that there is no chance, not even a sliver of a possibility, that Kitten could live in the wild (urban or otherwise).

I know I have written on similar topics before. Select examples include: Kitten has an Intellectual Disability,  Kitten Almost Died, RIP Cheap Entertainment Unit Door, and 5 Reasons Kitten would not Survive the First Week of a Zombie Apocalypse.

But I still feel like without some concrete evidence, it is difficult for people who do not personally know Kitten to fully grasp how dumb he is.

To help you better understand the level of Kitten’s inability to function as a living being, I have compiled this brief and very incomplete video collection of Kitten’s shortcomings.

Kitten loves to chase things, however, he has little concept of how to come to a proper stop and also forgets very quickly why he was running in the first place.

This is how Kitten eats.  It involves a lot of weird jerky head movements and inability to actually get any food in his mouth.

Kitten will not let me brush him and since the following is his idea of bathing, he ends up covered in mats, necessitating stupid haircuts.  Please note that this is actually the full extent of Kitten’s concept of what constitutes appropriate personal-hygiene measures.

Kitten does not understand object permanence (or in this case, world permanence).  To be fair, neither do babies.  But, even minimally sentient beings often understand that they can escape from underneath blankets.  Kitten does not.  If you put a blanket over Kitten, he will stay they until you take it off.  He accepts that warm darkness has become his life, and at a certain point will begin to welcome it.  That point is at 1:29 in this video, where Kitten begins to purr in his dark sanctuary.   

In the same vein, Kitten simply does not get what is happening when you put something as small as a washcloth over his face.  It is basically the end of the world.

Kitten has a love-hate relationship with cat toys.  He loves to chase them, but has an irrational fear of being chased/attacked/murdered by them.  He doesn’t understand the concept of “play.”

Bags. Kitten loves bags. I know I have said this many, many, many, times (and once more).  But Kitten’s favourite home has always been and forever will be, a crusty paper bag.

It is basically a miracle that he remembers to breath.

♪♪ Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes ♪♪

I just realized that it has been about a year since Ex-Boyfriend and I became citizens of Splitsville.  [If my lame joke escapes you, what I am trying to say, is that it has been about a year since we ended our relationship, called it quits, broke-up, etc.] 

This past year, a lot has changed in my life and I can happily say, that most of the change has been overwhelming good.  What has not changed, is Kitten.

He is my rock, my deranged, violent rock.

To his credit, he has dealt with a lot of changes as well.  After the break-up, I made a few lifestyle changes; the main one being that instead of sitting at home taking pictures of and blogging about my cat, I went out.  I made a big effort to reconnect with old friends and to forge new friendships as well.  This meant a lot of long days alone for Kitten.

Then came even bigger changes.  I met a… person? Man-friend? Male-of-Interest? Let’s call him “Furby”. 

This meant someone new in the apartment.  At first I thought Kitten would be unimpressed, especially because the first time Furby met Kitten, he kicked him. NOT HARD, and to be fair, it was because Kitten had started to do his weird humping thing that Elena has already described in such glorious detail for you. 

On top of that, Furby is allergic to cats, meaning that sometimes Kitten would have to wait in the washroom until Furby was gone.  Despite this, Kitten really liked Furby.  Well, he liked Furby as much as Kitten is capable of liking anything, which means he sniffed his shoes and stared at him in a really uncomfortable manner. 

Furby, however, never grew to like Kitten… or so he said.  But one time I caught Furby on his hands and knees trying to role a ball on a string under the bed for Kitten.  Kitten was obviously terrified by this gesture, as he naturally assumed the 1.5 inch ball was coming to murder him.

One time, I was in the kitchen and Furby was in the washroom.  I heard the shower go on for several seconds and then shut-off.  By this point in our more-than-friendship, I was well aware of Furby’s penchant for, how can I put this?  Shit disturbing.  So I immediately yelled, “did you just run the shower when Kitten was in the bathtub?!”

“No,” came the response from the washroom.

But I didn’t trust Furby, so I went looking for Kitten.  And I found him.  Sitting under the table. Dripping wet.

I frantically yelled at Furby, while rushing to grab a towel and blow-dryer, “Don’t ever get them wet!!!” 

(Source)

Okay, so not quite like that. But STILL bad.

Furby's response: "But he was just sitting in there. He wanted it." 

Luckily, Kitten wasn’t that wet and together we were able to dry him.

Aside from being troublemakers out to make my life more difficult, Furby and Kitten have one other glaring trait in common: FUR.

Now I’m not saying that Furby is Yeti, but…

(Source)

The amount of sweeping needing to be done in my apartment essentially doubled.  Sometimes, I would find hybrid hairballs that had taken on a life of their own.  Yes, it was scary.

So, all of this is to say, that though Kitten clearly wants me dead (made obvious by way of his murderous actions – I’ll get to this in more detail later), he has been doing quite well with the changes that I have been subjecting him to.

Or, as well as Kitten can do.

The Storm is Coming

Sandy is on her way.

If you live in Toronto, this means some garbage cans are definitely going to get blown over and umbrella sales are going to skyrocket.  If you are me, this means catching up on laundry (so all of my sweatpants are clean) and making sure all of my favourite TV shows are queued up.  

It also means that I am cooped up inside, forced to study, and therefore driven to the height of my procrastination tactics: Kitten blogging. 

In summary: Kitten is still alive.  His is still a cat.  He is still angry.

His fur has also grown in quite a bit.  

He went from this:

To this (I call it, "Angry Mangy Lamb"):

And is now close to full fur capacity.

Unfortunately, long fur means Kitten needs to be brushed regularly to prevent him from becoming a matted monster.  

Exhibit A:

I will be honest; I hate brushing Kitten and I will put it off as long as possible.  He is mean and he is strong and he has no reservations about clawing and biting my arms to a pulp. 

This is how I usually attempt to brush Kitten:

Luckily, I have a friend who is willing to look past all of this for the betterment of Kitten's hygiene. 

Remember my Kitten-sitter, Elena?  

She is an absolute doll and helps me brush Kitten anytime she comes to visit.  I pin down his little cat arms and cat legs and she brushes his tangled coat like the future of humanity depends on it.  I'm not sure if she does this out of friendship, a feeling that she has some obligation to Kitten as a past-caregiver, or if she has a misguided (and likely unrequited) love for Kitten.  Regardless of her motive, I appreciate the help.

Thanks again Elena, for having the courage I do not. 

In other news, I picked up some cat-tunnel-ball-toy-contraption from the dollar store.  

Kitten liked it for about 30 seconds before he bored with it. 

At first he was all, "Mmmmm balls."

But then he was all, "Tunnel of balls, you are no fun."

I call this one "00-Kitten", because I am witty.

That's all the Kitten blogging I can muster for now.

Wherever you are, I hope the storm passes you safely and the only casualty you suffer is a cosy night in on the couch with a cup of hot tea or cocoa.  As a parting gift, here are some pictures of Kitten looking stoically out the window at the rain. 

Adventures in Cat-Sitting

Hello there, readers of "Kitten the Cat"! My name is Elena and I am a friend of Catherine's from law school. I am temporarily taking over this blog in order to share my harrowing experience cat-sitting a creature known as Kitten.

He looks so innocent, doesn't he?

A few weeks ago, Catherine told me she was going away to a music festival and that she was a bit concerned about who would be available to watch over Kitten while she was away. As a cat-lover whose pet is currently across the continent, I jumped at the chance to take care of the little guy. "Are you sure?" asked Catherine hesitantly. "Yeah! Totally!" said poor, naive past-Elena. What a maroon.

As I am an over-user of gifs, I will use them to explain the range of emotions that I experienced throughout my mis-adventure in the land of Kitten.

This past week, the time finally came for me to enter the Thunderdome. Turning the key into Catherine's apartment, I was very excited. One could say "Jonah Hill in 'Get Him to the Greek' Excited". I entered to find Kitten looking like this:

Displeased? 

I wondered what his expression meant. Was Kitten showing me his stink eye? Was his face just like that? I then attempted to feed my new ward. He refused to ingest anything. My mind raced. Also my face contorted into this. What if Kitten was suffering Catherine withdrawal? What if he stopped eating? Do they make teeny tiny cat IVs? Was he just upset I picked him up and cuddled him like a baby?

"I am going to starve myself out of spite muhahahahahahha"

I then decided to wait around for a while to make sure he ate something. After about 20 minutes of sitting on the couch, Kitten came, sat down next to me and purred. I was delighted. One could say "Jason Segel in 'How I Met Your Mother' Delighted". Being a law student, I then assessed this situation critically. Was Kitten really happy, or did he just dislike loneliness? After a quick text-poll, my friends were leaning towards the former. One friend quipped that Kitten is quite dumb and that he was probably not smart enough to have feelings. That friend is rude. 

Kitten then stood up and crawled onto my leg. "How cute! He's going to cuddle with me!" I thought. Kitten then proceeded to knead me like dough...for several minutes. I then had another moment of confusion. I wanted to tell Kitten,"little buddy, you know my leg is not going to get any softer, right? Haha... hah" 

"Kneading"

You're probably wondering "hey Elena, why did you put quotation marks around the word 'kneading' and then italicize it? Because that's all he was doing right? He just wanted to cuddle? Nothing odd about that. Kitten is neutered so there could be no alternate reason for him to slowly and sensually massage your leg with his soft UGG boot-like paws while he's flexing his hind legs and pumping his lower body OH GOD HE WAS HUMPING YOU THAT ENTIRE TIME, WASN'T HE?"

You guys. This was awkward. Like... "Steve Buschemi at the Golden Globes" awkward. Kitten: heheh. My friends: oh dear.

Yep. That's right blog readers. I was sexually molested by a neutered cat. Now... I'm used to cats taking a  liking to me. I am known to many friends as a "cat whisperer" due to my ability to attract neighbourhood cats to me every time I go out.

Exhibit A. 

Exhibit B. 

Exhibit C. 

I was not used to this type of attention though.

Much like if the eunuch from Game of Thrones decided to rest his hand on Sansa Stark's thigh, the humping experience was bewildering and a little creepy. After I told Kitten "no" the first time (foreshadowing!) and brushed him aside, he decided to lay in front of me displaying himself for a full five minutes. Not moving. Just blinking. And watching me. If Kitten was a human, this would be the equivalent mental image you would have right now: yeppppp.

"Do you like what you see female human?"

Kitten then upped his creepy flasher vibe by licking himself and loving it.

"Tastes like cat pee"

Once Kitten saw that I was not impressed by his antics, he decided to come back on the couch and snuggle with me.

Awwwww. 

He then of course decided to start molesting me again, because if at first you don't success, try, try again! To make things creepier, every time I would push Kitten off, he would get upset. Suffice it to say that the play-by-play to my friends via text was both hilarious and extremely weird.

"I don't understand why you're not cool with this."

The face of a predator. 

I returned the next day and of course, Kitten continued his advances. This time I caught him in the act:

Not one to give up on new friends that easily, I decided to Google Kitten's little issue. I then found out that Kitten's behaviour is not uncommon in neutered cats who just want a bit of extra attention. My heart swelled. Kitten didn't want to mate with my leg! He just wanted to really let me know how special I should think he is.

With this new knowledge, I decided to distract my little cat friend with my proven scratching technique (patent pending).

"Why... why are you bringing your naked paws near my glorious mane?"

"What... what kind of demon magic is this? Are you a witch? Reveal yourself!"

"Oh... oh this is nice."

Once we were officially friends, we (well, pretty much mostly me) decided to have a little fun:

"This is to get back at me for the humping, isn't it?" 

I am happy to report that Kitten and I have gotten over our awkwardness and we are now buds.

Kitten's face not indicative of lack of awkwardness.

The Emperor's New Clothes

My blog is not the only thing I have been neglecting. 

My exams ended a month ago. I spent the month prior to exams locked in my apartment living off of non-perishables and perfecting my mild scoliosis. I spent the month following exams catching up on the Internet and television (in their entirety), venturing outside only to indulge in nightly post-exam celebrations.  

Both pre and post-exam lifestyles meant no trips to the gym, an exclusive carb diet, and no time/energy to brush the satanic beast that has become my cat. Have you ever tried to simultaneously subdue and brush an enraged and blood thirsty mammal while feeling bloated and lethargic? It is no walk in the park.

However, last week I started work and was forced to emerged from my hedonism-coma. I was shocked to discover that Kitten had become very hungry (joking) and very matted (not joking). 

There really was no possible way for me to deal with it myself. I needed professional help. Kitten has been to the groomers once before. He got his nails cut, his ears cleaned, his teeth brushed and he got a bath and a brushing.

This time, I went a different route.

This, my friends, is the famed Lion Cut. It is not some cruel invention of mine; it is a tried and true haircut for longhair fancy cats, and if Kitten is one thing, it is a longhaired fancy cat.

I opted for the Lion Cut for three reasons:

1) Kitten was covered in mats and they would all need to be cut out anyway.

2) Warm weather is upon us. I don't have air conditioning, so when the temperature rises, Kitten gets very hot and there is nothing I can do to help him.

3) It looks hilarious.

He had it done on Wednesday and I am not sure how long it will last, but I am hoping it takes a while to grow back. I can now hold Kitten without accidentally inhaling stray hairs and I am guessing I won't need to sweep for loose balls of cat hair on a daily basis anymore.


It also turns out that underneath all of that fabulous fluff is a disgustingly wrinkled and flabby creature wearing boots.

I was surprised to find that, despite his ridiculous appearance, Kitten still goes about his day like normal.

Here, Kitten is cleaning the only fur he has left.

"What of it?" Kitten asks.

  Personally, I have been finding it quite difficult not to constantly chase after Kitten just to play with his recently unhidden flab and loose skin. It looks disgusting and feels velvety soft.

I hope you have enjoyed Kitten's haircut as much as I have.