The View from Here

A Home Under Siege, Day 81:

After these many weeks, I still fear for my life and that of my dog, believing our cat may be insane, or at least bipolar- or perhaps just perpetually pissed off. I’ve read this about Torties, their personality traits well documented; multiple personalities, everything- and I mean everything– having to be on their terms. She will be sweet and loving at off hours in the dark of night, but as soon as I get out of bed, she runs from me like I am wielding a meat cleaver and yelling, “Bring me my Hasenpfeffer!” Later, she flirts with me, rubbing against my legs, but bolting and scolding me with her high-pitched chirps if I dare reach down to touch her.

My husband is a brave man…

As a woman who is rapidly approaching menopause, I can relate to these conflicting emotions and whacky behaviors; however, I have not yet had homicidal thoughts as Shiva obviously does- and she is only two years old. I can only imagine what could happen as she ages… At my vantage of fifty-four, I’ve had many more years to develop that hormonally-driven inner angst. Thank God that cats don’t go through menopause- we’d truly never survive.

You’re not helping…

My husband is the chosen one, lavished with attention and affection (when Shiva’s in the mood). I exist in Shiva’s life only to feed her, entertain her with one of her many toys, and clean her litter box- unless I am working in my music studio on the computer- than she is obsessed with me, showing her affection by constantly trying to step onto the keyboard while I’m in the middle of an important document (cats don’t type very well, by the way), and knocking my reeds into the floor. I also act as a brief bed and then lunching pad for her nocturnal acrobatics. Nothing- and I mean nothing- is more jarring than to be woken from a deep sleep by a wild-eyed cat pouncing on your abdomen. Sophie exists for Shiva to examine, stare balefully at, and torment in surprise ambushes when it fits her mood.

A rare moment of peace…

Don’t get me wrong; Shiva can be adorable, sweet, and funny when she wants to be. The other day, I found her emerging from her pillow fort in the guest room, popping out like a golden-eyed jack-in-the-box with an attitude. When she first wakes up, she is sweet and cuddly; once she wakes up fully? Be afraid…be very afraid. I am learning to be aware of the warning signs for my own safety and that of my dog.

The three basic stages:

1) It’s alive!! Safe to touch, but always approach with caution.

2). That look of distain- she is waking up! Step away slowly and carefully…

3). Purring but ears back: DEFCON 7: Abort! Abort!

Shiva is family now- sort of like living with a grumpy, unpredictable, angst-ridden teenager- you love them no matter what, but they drive you crazy. She brings laughter into our home, and a wonderful departure from the ordinary. Ohhh…I hear her bouncing down the stairs- time to take cover!