Nov
10
Billy the kitten is now the size of a regular smallish-sized cat but he has plenty of embiggening to do, he’ll be five months old at the end of November and apparently Maine Coons keep on growing for 3-5 years! At some point he’ll be YOOGE and it will be hard to remember how relatively little he was, I have really enjoyed his young-boi energy but I also look forward to a slightly more mellow stage.
He is extremely cuddly and affectionate when he’s a bit sleepy and that is a great delight, especially in bed when he curls up next to me and his purr is a busy little motor that lulls us both. He has a little routine where he slithers all around me before getting settled, he lays his long warm belly across my face and I can feel his contended buzzing, he swirls himself into a roll in the crook of my arm or right on top of my chest, I’m not a praying person but Billy’s nighttime ministrations has prompted me to think of that verse: he maketh me lie down in green pastures.
He is also a straight-up maniac a fair amount of the time, poking into absolutely everything I might be doing and running around in wild spurts, accompanied by a blurry sort of noise — ERRRT — that I now associate with Unhinged Cat Zoomies. He is both hilarious and deeply annoying when he’s in this mode, stopping briefly to arch his back and wilden his fur so he looks electrified before tear-assing around and jumping into the sink or batting reading glasses from my face.
We have a little game that makes me think of Cato in the old Pink Panther movies, where I peek my head around a wall and he instantly drops into stalk mode and wiggle-butts his way into an attack. He can honestly be quite startling with his little jumpscares, paws up and eyes looking just bonkers, but his claws are always sheathed. He loves to bite me with gentle teeth. He is a stealthy and constant assassin, but wants me to live another day.
His worst habit is doing his level best to shoot out any door I might be opening and it’s quite hard to stop him, he is absurdly fast and can liquify into various surprising forms that are difficult to get a grip on. Thankfully he doesn’t go far if he gets outside, but it’s a whole damn thing. When I’m leaving in the car I often toss him gently and go out at a bolt so I can get the door shut before he fully regroups, or if I’m coming in I’ll just let him into the garage where he can prowl around for a while before remembering that the food and most of the entertainment is inside.
I have mostly gotten him to stay off unwanted areas (the TV stand, the kitchen table and counters) by use of air duster cans, which are placed on several surfaces around the house for quick deployment. I tried tin foil and spiky mats, both of which he walked on no problem, but he haaaates the little PSHT!! of air so that has worked pretty well. It adds to the overall chaotic decor theme of cat toys everywhere (like with growing babies, you keep buying more shit in hopes of longer stretches of non-destructive independent play) plus what appears to be an inhalant abuse problem, but I traded in my cute-things-everywhere house pursuit the day I brought him home and I’m okay with that.
He tolerates a harness and leash just fine and we have explored the backyard together, I kind of think he’d do okay just walking down the street but there are so many dogs going by that seems like too much of a gamble. He’s the only cat I’ve ever owned that I could imagine being in one of those pet backpacks with the clear bubble, I swear he’d love that. (I think that’s a crazy cat lady bridge too far for me, though, I already have the giant carpet-covered tree in my living room).
When I bury my head in his fur, he smells like sunshine. He smells like a warm place full of books. It has been so long since I have smelled a baby’s head (sob sob) but I think it’s the same type of smell, maybe they don’t smell the exact same but it is an immensely soothing smell of pure goodness; his fur smells of green pastures.
The right cat at the right time, I’ve told people. Gosh, it is true. He came into my life when I most needed him, he adds so much to my every day. I miss my old pets so much, and/but I’m so grateful for him. He is the best addition to my all-different life, a growing furry talisman, my best Billy boy.
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Oh the way you talk about that cat! It’s just the best, totally delicious.
What a cutie. You capture the insansity and the sweetness of a young cat. Our wild dude is now 11. When he was a kitten I’d put him in the hamper to get away from him when he was being bitey. He could climb out, but it’d give me a 20 second start to head out of the room ahead of him. Now that he’s an elder he sleeps more, but still is a maniac. The vet calls him ‘spicy.’
Your cat and your love of him remind me so much of this poem that I have to be THAT person: please read this poem: Wild Gratitude by Edward Hirsch and see how cats can save your life. My whole family loves this one, but the last lines:
And only then did I understand
It is Jeoffry—and every creature like him—
Who can teach us how to praise—purring
In their own language,
Wreathing themselves in the living fire.