So I have this cat. I’ve had him since he was a kitten and he’s over 11 now. We’ve had some good times, that cat and I.
He is a good cat: he uses his litter box, does not scratch or bite and is generally a good guy. His morning behaviour, however, leaves something to be desired.
Thomas blames his lastest exploits on my decision to switch him to canned food. He’d been a dry food only cat until a few months ago. He wasn’t interested in eating anymore, though he was clearly hungry and he started losing weight. He had seen the vet recently and after an anal gland expression (yum!), he was given a clean bill of health. The vet did leave us with some laxative, just because the cat is getting older.
When the wee brown cat started losing weight and becoming lethargic, I figured I would try and get him to eat and see if that brought him around before I involved another visit from the vet. Well, cats and canned food have never had cross words and the change was amazing. I added the laxative to his diet and he’s been back to his old self.
Now I was careful not to feed him first thing in the morning. The last thing I wanted was for the cat to associate morning with meal time. Unfortunately, he does not care. Despite the fact that I was not feeding him until 11 a.m., 6:30 became the time to start reminding me that I was the only person who could open that can. The meowing. The random scratching of furniture. Using my stomach as a trampoline. Working himself up in such hysterics that sometimes he would throw up.
In my defense, the cat was waking us up long before the canned food came into his life. He just wasn’t so persistent. And loud and annoying. Spraying him with water doesn’t work, though Thomas is a fan of this method, if only for sport. I’ve never given in to the behaviour but the cat hasn’t given in either.
This morning, in desperation, I tried something that we tried once before when he found a nice antique door to scratch in the morning. At first pester, I put him in his cat carrier in the other room.
And he did nothing. He didn’t howl, he didn’t scratch. Silence. An hour when I let him out, he happily came back to bed and cozied up with us. When I did get up, he waited patiently while I dressed and while enthused about his first meal of the day, he wasn’t nearly as hysterical as he has been. I told Thomas I think this will never be repeated, but still I wonder.
Just when you think you’ve got a cat pegged. Weird.