Fuzziest Jerkface on the Planet
To say that Mr. Kitters is a willful cat is sort of like saying that trees tend to be green or that root canals tend to be unpleasant. Of his 15 pounds, I'm convinced that about 2 pounds are fur and at least 5 pounds are pure unadulterated will. Somewhat unfortunately, he has a reputation among my online friends and some of my geographically-present ones of being a scary cat. It's not quite fair, because 90% of the time he's just a normal cat with normal cat aloofness. He can also be incredibly sweet, and he jumps up on the bed to give me purrs and snuggles almost every night. The problem is, like a certain curly-haired girl of nursery rhyme fame, when Kitters is bad, he's horrid.
white board art by Danger
His behavior has been especially aggravating this week, because BoMB* has been staying with us while he waits to receive the keys to his new apartment, having begun the long-awaited process of moving back to the city. Mr. Kitters apparently decided some time ago that BoMB is his mortal enemy. BoMB's theory (independently suggested by my mom) is that the cat is pissed that BoMB has access to the coveted spare room, where Kitters is only allowed to go in the summer, when the potted plants are outside. Right now, the plants are still inside due to the freakish post-Easter cold snap, so from Kitters's perspective, I'm sure it seems like BoMB has an all-access pass to the all-you-can-eat salad bar while he (Kitters) is repeatedly shut out in the hall.
For whatever reason, Kitters has been an asshole to BoMB off and on since he arrived about a week ago. Yesterday, BoMB came around the corner into the kitchen and Kitters flattened himself out on the floor and started hissing and spitting. This morning, Kitters hissed at BoMB and then started to trail him across the living room, a sure sign of an impending pants-leg attack. I'm afraid to leave the two of them alone in the apartment, so when I went out to make a pet store run, I shut Kitters in MB's and my bedroom. This works great for short-term cat storage, but MB and I are planning to leave next Friday evening for a weekend camping trip, and Kitters definitely can't stay in our room for 2 1/2 days. I'm really hoping BoMB's new landlord comes through with keys by then. (Besides, I can't do my exercise DVDs while BoMB is chilling in the living room with his laptop all day, and I'm starting to feel like a lazy lump.)
*BoMB = Brother of MB
Reading: Trickster's Queen by Tamora Pierce
Playing: Because of the Times by Kings of Leon
And, as proof that Kitters is not always a menace: