Monday, October 25, 2010
The Meeting of the (Little) Minds....
So, we finally bite the bullet and open the kitchen door. Leaving Stilton free to roam. And Angus free to hunt. The initial confusion is plain stupid. Stilton more afraid of the new space afforded to him than another cat in the mix. Angus, big talker, stares, puffed up, but all show.
Stilty steps, ballerina like, past a stoic Angus.
"You don't belong here..." Angus seems to say.
"But check out the place..." he concedes.
Baby steps. Looks like this eventually might work. Fingers crossed....
Stilty steps, ballerina like, past a stoic Angus.
"You don't belong here..." Angus seems to say.
"But check out the place..." he concedes.
Baby steps. Looks like this eventually might work. Fingers crossed....
Monday, October 18, 2010
Sooo Stilton Wants Me to Lift His Furry Ass Up Into the Windowsill, Even Though He Can Get Up There Himself...!...
Jaime swears Stilton is calling for his Daddy. 'Meuw, Meuw...'
Jaime is right.
After a half hour of time in the kitchen with Stilty, he finally feels comfortable enough coming out of his 'zen' spot. He hesitates to jump up onto the windowsill. Mind you he can easily make this leap.
But looking at me, big eyed, and sacrificed, he stretches his limbs as if to make the move. Only to tense himself and again just give me those ridiculous needy eyes.
Leaving for a minute I feel for my little old man.
Upon return, Stilton leaps off the sill. Kid in a cookie jar. Teenager in the liquor cabinet.
Stilton is either too old, or too much of a cat to feel remorse.
Jaime is right.
After a half hour of time in the kitchen with Stilty, he finally feels comfortable enough coming out of his 'zen' spot. He hesitates to jump up onto the windowsill. Mind you he can easily make this leap.
But looking at me, big eyed, and sacrificed, he stretches his limbs as if to make the move. Only to tense himself and again just give me those ridiculous needy eyes.
Leaving for a minute I feel for my little old man.
Upon return, Stilton leaps off the sill. Kid in a cookie jar. Teenager in the liquor cabinet.
Stilton is either too old, or too much of a cat to feel remorse.
Smacking the Door, Smacking the Door! Meuw, Meuw...
It is getting closer, a week or so now, until Angus an Stilton will meet, strictly under parental supervision at first. Stilt is clearly getting a little fed up being stuck in the kitchen. He is taking now to smacking the accordion door we installed, "meuwing" all the while. Angus creeps up and peers under the door where there is an inch or so opening. He growls/hisses/spits. The "meuws" instantly stop! Poor Stilty...
Monday, October 11, 2010
And so I kinda figured Jaime would try to install this door on her own...
And I was right! And while I read the Sunday Times, she reads Home Depot instructions.
Eventually we succeed in installing the door.
Stilton has a new home.
Meuw...meuw....
Angus is just a bit curious...
Hiss...Hiss...
Eventually we succeed in installing the door.
Stilton has a new home.
Meuw...meuw....
Angus is just a bit curious...
Hiss...Hiss...
Long Story Short...
Perhaps I overreacted when Stilton jumped the gate, calling cat behaviorists across the country. Sure, I can see now how that can be seen as obsessive. I did not see an option for him to live in this new apartment.
I was hysterical.
I was not forward thinking. Or, perhaps, as Jaime not so delicately points out later, was not really thinking at all.
I was hysterical.
I was not forward thinking. Or, perhaps, as Jaime not so delicately points out later, was not really thinking at all.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
"Let me out now, please...meuw..meuw..."
After the gate fiasco, we realize we need a much more secure situation. I am at a loss. Jaime, in her infinite wisdom suggests a sliding accordion style door that we can put in the kitchen doorway. The local Home Depot does not sell them. Convinced, that no matter what we are installing we will need help, I text some other friends.
Meanwhile, Angus camps out by the bathroom door, presumably seething at the unfamiliar smells creeping into his apartment.
Ultimately the next day we have to go to Jersey anyway for Jaime's neice's birthday, so we borrow a car and hit up a Home Depot, Jersey style.
Stilton has one more night in the bathroom at least. Soon a friend will come over and help us put this door in. Get the furry little guy a bit more space and even a window...
Meanwhile, Angus camps out by the bathroom door, presumably seething at the unfamiliar smells creeping into his apartment.
Ultimately the next day we have to go to Jersey anyway for Jaime's neice's birthday, so we borrow a car and hit up a Home Depot, Jersey style.
Stilton has one more night in the bathroom at least. Soon a friend will come over and help us put this door in. Get the furry little guy a bit more space and even a window...
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
"Your Cat Sounds Like A Pigeon.."
Stilton is still stuck in the bathroom.
I am up at 9:00 am and it is pouring. I brave it with my 4 dollar bodega umbrella throughout the East Village to the far end of Union Square to Petco. I was assured by the sales associate on the phone that they had an abundance of gates, all types and all sizes. They do not.
I bother Jaime via text for a possible answer to this problem, I make my way over to Kip's Bay and Petco location number two. Where they have been equally assuring that they have what sounds like any pet gate on the market. They do not.
However, they do have one that will fit the kitchen entrance which at this point is good enough. Sixty dollars later, I miraculously grab a cab feeling pretty good.
Back at the apartment the set up is extremely simple. Draping a piece of cloth over the gate so neither cat can see the other and only get the smell I sit down to apply for jobs. And to order the original gate we wanted which I assume we still do because it cuts the apartment in half, giving Stilton more room than just the kitchen.
The next fifteen minutes are a blur as Angus catches a peek of this new squatter through a piece of cloth pulled aside from the gate. He turns blacker than normal, puffs himself up, hair on end and lets out a guttural growl that truly makes me terrified. For myself. At this point screw Stilton, every man for himself!
Angus grows tired and scampers away. As I approach the gate I see Stilton's head peaking over, front two paws pulling himself up. He sees me and dismounts. For a second. Before launching himself clear over the gate to my horror. I grab his furry, squiggly body and toss him in the bathroom.
Exasperated, and utterly hopeless, I call Angus' vet, Stilton's vet, and a variety of cat specialists from around the country with some but little new information on my side, I try and commit myself to the fact that Stilton will be fine in the bathroom until after the weekend when I can talk to these "experts' more and figure something out.
Jaime arrives home from a very long day at work, made all the longer by my incessant texting and doomsday updates. She promptly shit rigs the gate vertically, covers it and brings Stilton into the kitchen. I feel the fool. I probably am.
He cannot be left there all night though in case something happens, since it is a two man job just to get in and out of kitchen now. Around midnight I move him and his box, food, water and carrier back to the bathroom.
- Your cat sounds like a pigeon.
She says later after exiting the bathroom. She says so with conviction. I frown.
Around 6:30 am she wakes me
-Sam, Stilton is crying
-Uggghhh
I am up and in the bathroom. He needs me to pet him. Then he feels comfortable to eat and he must have been hungry. Chomping down his medicated food for bladder health. He seems fine and I head back to Jamie and Angus and bed. I close the door..
-Meuw
Damnnit. He does sound like a goddamn pigeon.
I am up at 9:00 am and it is pouring. I brave it with my 4 dollar bodega umbrella throughout the East Village to the far end of Union Square to Petco. I was assured by the sales associate on the phone that they had an abundance of gates, all types and all sizes. They do not.
I bother Jaime via text for a possible answer to this problem, I make my way over to Kip's Bay and Petco location number two. Where they have been equally assuring that they have what sounds like any pet gate on the market. They do not.
However, they do have one that will fit the kitchen entrance which at this point is good enough. Sixty dollars later, I miraculously grab a cab feeling pretty good.
Back at the apartment the set up is extremely simple. Draping a piece of cloth over the gate so neither cat can see the other and only get the smell I sit down to apply for jobs. And to order the original gate we wanted which I assume we still do because it cuts the apartment in half, giving Stilton more room than just the kitchen.
The next fifteen minutes are a blur as Angus catches a peek of this new squatter through a piece of cloth pulled aside from the gate. He turns blacker than normal, puffs himself up, hair on end and lets out a guttural growl that truly makes me terrified. For myself. At this point screw Stilton, every man for himself!
Angus grows tired and scampers away. As I approach the gate I see Stilton's head peaking over, front two paws pulling himself up. He sees me and dismounts. For a second. Before launching himself clear over the gate to my horror. I grab his furry, squiggly body and toss him in the bathroom.
Exasperated, and utterly hopeless, I call Angus' vet, Stilton's vet, and a variety of cat specialists from around the country with some but little new information on my side, I try and commit myself to the fact that Stilton will be fine in the bathroom until after the weekend when I can talk to these "experts' more and figure something out.
Jaime arrives home from a very long day at work, made all the longer by my incessant texting and doomsday updates. She promptly shit rigs the gate vertically, covers it and brings Stilton into the kitchen. I feel the fool. I probably am.
He cannot be left there all night though in case something happens, since it is a two man job just to get in and out of kitchen now. Around midnight I move him and his box, food, water and carrier back to the bathroom.
- Your cat sounds like a pigeon.
She says later after exiting the bathroom. She says so with conviction. I frown.
Around 6:30 am she wakes me
-Sam, Stilton is crying
-Uggghhh
I am up and in the bathroom. He needs me to pet him. Then he feels comfortable to eat and he must have been hungry. Chomping down his medicated food for bladder health. He seems fine and I head back to Jamie and Angus and bed. I close the door..
-Meuw
Damnnit. He does sound like a goddamn pigeon.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Moving Day
Stilton is transported via a pet carrier back pack, to Angus and Jaime's place, in Roger's car.
There is only one door in their New York City apartment and that is to the bathroom. I place him in the bathroom and open his carrier and his big bug eyes look up at me with confusion. He doesn't scamper out of his carrier, or even take an inquisitive look around. He just gazes at me. I melt a little inside and turn around and leave.
Before I have the chance to bring in Stilton's litter box, Angus, has apparently staked his claim and peed in the empty box.
Cleaning out the Angus wee, Stilton stays in his carrier, his one claw now caught on the mesh siding as if holding on for dear life. Still he is silent. Unaware of what, and who is beyond this new door he is now confined behind.
I first try and take away his carrier case and leave him with a blanket from my old apartment, only to walk back in to find him snug, inside his litter box. I return his carrier case and he scampers out of the box back into safety. His eyes again looking up at me.
There is much sniffing on Angus' part on the other side of the door throughout the night. And Stilton eventually rises to eat a few nibbles when Jaime and I are in his new humble abode.
Eventually we sleep and there is no trouble on night one. Tomorrow I plan on getting a gate to open up the space Stilton has to roam but still keep them separated. For now at least, we are secure in our thoughts that, for the moment we are all secure.
There is only one door in their New York City apartment and that is to the bathroom. I place him in the bathroom and open his carrier and his big bug eyes look up at me with confusion. He doesn't scamper out of his carrier, or even take an inquisitive look around. He just gazes at me. I melt a little inside and turn around and leave.
Before I have the chance to bring in Stilton's litter box, Angus, has apparently staked his claim and peed in the empty box.
Cleaning out the Angus wee, Stilton stays in his carrier, his one claw now caught on the mesh siding as if holding on for dear life. Still he is silent. Unaware of what, and who is beyond this new door he is now confined behind.
I first try and take away his carrier case and leave him with a blanket from my old apartment, only to walk back in to find him snug, inside his litter box. I return his carrier case and he scampers out of the box back into safety. His eyes again looking up at me.
There is much sniffing on Angus' part on the other side of the door throughout the night. And Stilton eventually rises to eat a few nibbles when Jaime and I are in his new humble abode.
Eventually we sleep and there is no trouble on night one. Tomorrow I plan on getting a gate to open up the space Stilton has to roam but still keep them separated. For now at least, we are secure in our thoughts that, for the moment we are all secure.
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