November 26, 2012

♪♪ 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.


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