He spent Friday getting himself acclimated to his new digs. Most of his day was spent under the coffee table, only coming out when I would begin to write. He developed a fascination with hands on laptop keyboards, and would emerge to pounce every time he heard clicking. By Saturday afternoon he'd expanded his horizons to include his reflection in the chrome bases of our barstools, his shadow, and power cords, and Saturday evening found him scrambling up everything scaleable while exploring the myriad tones of his own tiny voice. Yesterday morning had him discovering Totsi the Dog's tail and ears. Within just three days, we are trying to find creative, yet encouraging and gentle, ways to contain him so we can relax. Luckily we have a sitter:
Totsi has taken the kitten as her own, and serves as his bodyguard. Having never seen her maternal side in action with anything other than plush toys, I'm actually more fascinated by her than I am the kitten. She will not be in a separate room from him, walks behind or hovers over him constantly, and has even tried to pick him up to carry him as she would a puppy on two occasions. Those were not good moments, those toting attempts. Not good moments at all. Jupiter squalled, Didge and I freaked, and Totsi was scolded, then the whole household retreated to their own little safe places to calm the hell down for a few minutes. She sits with him while he eats to make sure Foot Foot doesn't do what Foot Foot is prone to do, and even broke up a moment when Foot Foot had the kitten cornered on the stairs. As for Jupiter, he has completely accepted Totsi's offer to have his back.
So exactly how is Foot Foot Kittycat responding to all of this? Not well. For the first twenty four hours or so she hid, exhibiting symptoms of a major depressive episode and only coming out occasionally to mew pitifully or growl like some description of demon. She began sitting and glaring from an uncomfortable distance (i.e., close) Saturday afternoon, and by Saturday night had just given up any semblance of sanity and resorted to stalking. If she is awake she's skulking about, waiting for the opportunity to do gods only know what. At all waking moments, Didge, Totsi, and I are on high alert for Foot Foot. Last night, she got herself good and busted when deciding to hide under our bed for an ambush - she fell asleep, and started snoring. This morning she's back to stalking around and yowling, clawing the door to the room we have the kitten in. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I can't get a snapshot of Foot Foot in action, as it is impossible to photograph her or see her reflection when she enters this place of being, so that picture of her nemesis will have to do.
So there's our weekend. I'm off to take advantage of the calm that's settled over Casa Didgeridoo since everyone else is still asleep, and undo the domestic havoc this weekend created. Kitten-proofing everything conceivable is on the agenda as well, as Jupiter's boundaries are expanding at an exponential rate. Last, but not least, I need to find my stash of backup spray bottles. Enjoy your Monday!
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