Devil Cat
Yes, yes, I know I asked for it when I got a kitten. Kittens very quickly become "tweens," which is roughly equivalent to teen-age years in humans. When your cute, playful little kitten becomes a "tween" he becomes the Devil.
Frank has decided that toilet paper is the enemy and must be destroyed. My roomie bought one of those bajillion packs of TP, Frank broke into the cabinet and attacked the outside of the package. After we opened it he somehow attacked all the middle rolls. They are almost completely shredded and are pretty much useless. In the process a paperback book that must have gotten a little too close got a some collateral damage as well. I put an 8 lb. weight in front of the cabinet door. He won't be shredding any more packs of TP anytime soon.
Last night I heard a noise coming from the bathroom (he seems somewhat fixated on the bathroom) and I went to see what the hell he'd gotten himself into this time. He had managed to get himself up on top of the bathroom door. "You got yourself into this," I said, "get yourself out." A little time later, poor Rusty must have gone in there to see what was up and got ambushed from on high. He doesn't yowl much usually, but he sure did then, poor bastard.
This morning really got me, though. I heard a crash come from my room. He had crawled up on the topmost point of my computer desk and then made a leap for the bookshelves that are above it. In the process he knocked down my three-tiered "in-out" box which had all my printer paper and about 150 plastic page sheaths as well as a bunch of miscellaneous mail. I pretty much wanted to skin him on the spot.
I can't wait until he outgrows this phase, it's stressful to me because I never know what he's going to break or destroy. I almost feel like locking him in a kennel when I leave, but that would be cruel. I keep telling him that if he keeps this up I'll wind up killing him.
But he's just too cute to kill.
Frank has decided that toilet paper is the enemy and must be destroyed. My roomie bought one of those bajillion packs of TP, Frank broke into the cabinet and attacked the outside of the package. After we opened it he somehow attacked all the middle rolls. They are almost completely shredded and are pretty much useless. In the process a paperback book that must have gotten a little too close got a some collateral damage as well. I put an 8 lb. weight in front of the cabinet door. He won't be shredding any more packs of TP anytime soon.
Last night I heard a noise coming from the bathroom (he seems somewhat fixated on the bathroom) and I went to see what the hell he'd gotten himself into this time. He had managed to get himself up on top of the bathroom door. "You got yourself into this," I said, "get yourself out." A little time later, poor Rusty must have gone in there to see what was up and got ambushed from on high. He doesn't yowl much usually, but he sure did then, poor bastard.
This morning really got me, though. I heard a crash come from my room. He had crawled up on the topmost point of my computer desk and then made a leap for the bookshelves that are above it. In the process he knocked down my three-tiered "in-out" box which had all my printer paper and about 150 plastic page sheaths as well as a bunch of miscellaneous mail. I pretty much wanted to skin him on the spot.
I can't wait until he outgrows this phase, it's stressful to me because I never know what he's going to break or destroy. I almost feel like locking him in a kennel when I leave, but that would be cruel. I keep telling him that if he keeps this up I'll wind up killing him.
But he's just too cute to kill.
Comments
I made Nathan clean it up...
SEE HIM ALIVE