Pet Peeves: Pushy Cat
10 April 2012
My mother called our Siamese cats, “pushy cats”. Which as a child I thought was the funniest ever play on ‘pussy cats’. As an adult, who has been the serf to cats for most of my life, I don’t think she meant it as a joke.
NikkiCat (formal name-Tsar Nicholas- He’s black and his mom was a Russian Blue. Which of course makes him a Black Russian. Or he’s driving me to drinking them.) has become a Very pushy cat. He was part of our shy outdoor cat family until coyotes got his mom, brother, and pop. Since then we’ve eased Nikki into accepting most days indoors.
About which he has an unending opinion. He’s a talker thanks to his Russian Blue genes. His input often comes over as a complaint a minute, just in case ‘lady’ (me) thought she was getting ANYTHING right. When we drove him to Cat Jail (Also known as the cat spa where he lodged while we went to visit my parents) Nikki shared his evaluation of The Prince Consort ( aka ‘the man’), me, the fact that he was stuffed into a carrier, and on and on. When we toted him into Cat Jail, he added his offer to swap places and let us sit in the ‘cat house’ for two weeks while he flew out to CA. Nikki was not a gracious guest.
TPC and I will need a disguise not only for Nikki but for ourselves before Cat Jail will house Nikki again.
When he is not talking, and he does talk at night when I have the temerity to move/roll over during the night, he’s washing. Now, I do not object to a neat and tidy cat. SamCat, at his advanced age of nearly 21, gave up washing a year ago. Given the rate at which SamCat’s fur is falling out, probably a good idea. Apparently Nikki’s day is full of dirty activities, wherever he’s hiding in the house. Every night is bath night. A loud, loud bath, noisier than when he crunches kitty kibbles.
At first when Nikki started coming inside, he was skitty-kitty and hid from us, sleeping or something in hidey places. Now at night he sleeps on the bed near me, if not in my place. Last night after I got up to check that the toilet was not full of pythons, I returned to bed to find a certain black cat settled in my place. I swear he had his head on my pillow. From the stare I got, he was Not just keeping my place warm. I had to lug eighteen pounds of suddenly boneless floppy cat off my side of the bed.
It’s a mystery how Nikki is so heavy. Unless he’s swallowed SamCat. No. Sam’s okay, asleep on his heating pad on the couch. (I do so Not spoil the cats.) Nikki doesn’t eat that much. Not anywhere as much as skinny SamCat. Well, Nikki is not big on ‘cat’ food. Come to think of it, Nikki is more a fast food type of feline.
Which brings me to the other night and a race in the dark around the bedroom, some frantic squeaking, and then loud crunching. When I finally turned on the light to see what Nikki was doing, there was nothing but a pink spot on the rug. TPC tells me Nikki eats ALL of a mouse, although Nikki leaves various parts of other creatures on the screened porch. I’m pretty sure Nikki is not leaving the best parts as a gift for us. Pretty sure.
When Nikki was full time ‘owt doors’ cat, he was the terror of the chipmunks and songbirds. This spring the titmice are pecking at the windows like they’ve seen Alfred Hitchcock’s THE BIRDS, and are serving notice. The chipmunks are so fearless this one perched -0behind the birdbath and stared me down when I arrived home after a walk. 
And I’m not buying that Nikki has moved up to larger prey. I watched. Yesterday the three HUGE male turkeys and their hens were cruising the front woods while Nikki crouched beside the van. Clearly Nikki had big plans. TPC says the biggest jake is probably chest high to TPC. Can you spell pterodactyl? As I watched, the jakes and hens paraded to the back woods, coming within feet of the van. Nikki went from stalker crouch, to full hunkering down under the car and counting on the birds being too big to get under the car after him.
Nikki had nothing to say on this.
Kath- ‘nuf said.
