Herman and Luna starting their wrestling match – the floor stripe makes it convenient to determine who’s out of bounds. They’re only ten months old, and already Herman is larger than most cats. If he grows into his feet, he’ll be the size of a bobcat. Luna is still smaller than he is, but can be just as stubborn, willful and scratch/bite/pounce.
It’s been a month of many adjustments.
To have an office morph from having a staid lady cat, a bit elderly, but nonetheless with an important co-editor job to perform and very conscientious in doing so resident … to a pair of high-energy, let’s find the newest thing to push off a desk or workbench, only nap when you fall down with exhaustion kittens has been difficult. Their mother, Jamie, is only two years old herself, and has discovered toys, the luxury of clean litter boxes instead of being outside, and the marvel of air conditioning. To my dismay, all three must be treated for fleas ASAP.
The three having to leave the garage/workshop area where they’d lived since birth was a necessity. And the only other place they could inhabit was my office. Yes. I was reluctant. It’d been many years since kitten-proofing was a concern.
‘Sometimes’ I grit my teeth; other times I bellow. ‘Sometimes’ they’ll allow me to work at my desk (this is one of those times) and we have regular scuffles as to what “No cats on the desk!” really means.
Then the ‘sometimes’ that show they’re maturing: a purr when they wind around my ankles without biting or clawing, the simple joy of looking out the window glass in the storm door to the office, the pure delight in playing with a new toy or watching avidly as I show them how two cats playing together are definitely much more fun.
We’ll survive. And Abishag would understand the reason for the move. Perhaps she’s the influence encouraging them to ‘grow up!’