Be careful of your metaphors

…for they may go all literal on you, writes Dot. At least, some aspects of having a new kitten are more like having a new child than I was reckoning on. Such as the sleep-deprivation (for Tiberius wakes even earlier than the boys and likes to take his morning exercise on my tummy); and the terror (love of balancing on high points + propensity to slip = nervous new cat-mum); and the lack of privacy in the bathroom (during my shower he walked up and down the edge of the enamel bath, which is slippery, and fell off into the bath. Twice. See previous point. He hated getting wet but he still did it again).

Another parallel to early motherhood is the feeling of anxious puzzlement when there is something they clearly want but they don’t have the linguistic ability to tell you what it is. He’s had several fits of seeming agitated and urgently miaowing at me. Yesterday it was fairly clear that the problem was a need to use the litter tray for – ahem – serious purposes for the first time. We eventually managed that, though his initial preference was for a large plant pot and I had to haul him out of it repeatedly and put him in the tray, whereupon he would leap out and make for the plant. Today – well, I don’t know what it was. He’s seemed quite hungry. There has been food down the whole time, but he seems unwilling to eat to the bottom of the bowl and I suspect that, as the biggest of the litter, he was used to only eating the top of the food and leaving his sisters to clear up what was left. He has also wanted to play, and we have duly played with him. But there may be something else. Feeling unsettled, missing his family, needing a tummy rub, smelling something interesting – I just don’t know. If only he could talk. But Hugh and Frank learnt to talk, and look where that got us.

Tib balances on something narrow and slippery (fortunately this particular perch is not very high)
Tib balances on something narrow and slippery (fortunately this particular perch is not very high)

First trip into the outside world. A bit earlier than planned, but I was getting a bit desperate in the battle of the pot plant.
First trip into the outside world. A bit earlier than planned, but I was getting a bit desperate in the battle of the pot plant.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Be careful of your metaphors

  1. My cat is identical to that one on the table and outside and she is very protective of me and hates anyone who gets next to me. LOL. I do love cats but wish she would mellow around most others…

    1. kenanddot

      No, but he has had a go at the large blanket we hang over the children’s window (over the curtains) as a blackout, and the towel that hangs in the kitchen, and the coats on the coat rack:-)

  2. Helen Conrad-O'Briain

    Q often miaows for five or ten minutes at a time simply to keep us on edge and in our place. He was born to be a tyrant.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s