Or the time I got Kitten some cat grass in hopes that he would stop trying to eat the only plant left in my apartment?
Well this is a story about that plant. That sad, sad plant.
The plant lives behind my TV and is elevated by a small stool and a pile of old textbooks. The plan is to coax the plant into growing up the wall. But Kitten is thwarting this plan.
Even though the TV is on an angle, essentially blocking off the corner that the plant is in, Kitten finds ways to jump up on the ledge of the cheap entertainment unit that supports the TV and eat that poor, poor plant.
First, I tried blocking both "entrances." I placed a wooden statue on one side and fully opened the kitchen door on the other:
First, I tried blocking both "entrances." I placed a wooden statue on one side and fully opened the kitchen door on the other:
Unfortunately, and to my surprise, Kitten actually learned how to open the door to get to the plant. This came as quite a shock since I still stand by the fact that Kitten is intellectually disabled.
I tried placing my backpack in the space, thinking that he wouldn't figure out how to jump over it and onto the ledge.
I was wrong.
Again.
Kitten learned how to open the door and manoeuvre around the backpack.
I started placing textbooks in front of the door to keep it in place. This seemed to work for a few weeks and I started to think that Kitten had given up on getting to the plant. I eventually removed the textbook and just tried to remember to keep the door closed.
Then, a few days ago, I was woken up by a large crashing sound. I often sleep wearing earplugs, so this sound was undeniably loud to have woken me up. I assumed the noise was just Kitten being a jerk, but figured I should get up just to confirm it was nothing serious.
I walked around my dim apartment looking for what had make the sound. After seeing that everything was in it's place, I headed back to bed assuming the noise had come from a neighbours balcony.
Then I realized something was, in fact, amiss.
Kitten was not at my feet, nor was he running around in circles squawking, nor was he crashing into things in the Kitchen. If I can rely on Kitten for one thing, it is that he will, without fail, assume that if I am out of bed any time from 6:00am onwards, it must be to feed him.
It was 7:00am, and Kitten was not in sight.
I began to call his name. He didn't come. It then occurred to me that I should take my earplugs out. I then heard a faint scuffling sound coming from under the TV. I pulled the kitchen door open, which had been slightly ajar, to find the plant lying on the ground behind the TV along with a pile of books that had once been propping it up.
I can only assume that Kitten missed the jump to the plant, pulling the plant and books down with him. Kitten himself had some how slithered under the stool at the bottom and was lying there in a pathetic mess of failure and plant dirt. Sadly, this image went un-captured since I was eager to return to my sleep.
The next day I reinforced the kitchen door with my old Income Tax Act and made sure the statue on the other side was in place.
Everything was fine until two days later when I came home to find that Kitten had been at it again, this time tracking his evidence everywhere.
There was plant dirt and debris all over the apartment, yet the Income Tax Act was still in place.
Though Kitten may have proven that he can open a door, I was unconvinced that he could move the book, open the door, commit his act of mischief and then replace the book.
No, Kitten must had found a way around the wooden statue and then also figured out how to escape from behind the TV.
This was the story that I sat down to write. But as soon as I sat down to begin telling you about Kitten's mission of plant destruction, I heard a thud. Kitten had jumped past the statue in my very presence and had become lodged behind the TV.
After watching him struggle for some time and taking a short video of his misadventure, I pulled him out by the scruff of his neck.
I thought he had learned his lesson.
He had not.
It happened three more times in a row.
I am not sure what to do. I used another book to block the statue side, but feel like this is only a very temporary solution; even if Kitten doesn't figure it out, I should probably actually do my Administrative Law readings sometime...
But I think Kitten will find another way. After placing the book there, Kitten has just been lying in front of the TV with a melancholy look of dispair on his face. I can't tell, because his eyes are blank and they always seem blank, but I think he is planning his next move.
I should also note that anytime Kitten does succeed in eating the plant, he vomits shortly after.
It seems hardly worth it.
But I guess I shouldn't expect much forethought from this:
