Socks Doesn’t Share & Other Stories

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Yesterday I walked into the computer room to find Keb playing World of Warcraft (WOW) while perched at the front of the chair.  I asked him if she had jumped up there when he left to go get something and was now too attached to move.  “No,” he told me.  “She jumped up after I sat down and just refused to move.”  😛

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Of course, this is my fault.  When we first got her, I wanted her to get familiar with us and have places she could call her own.  One day I just plopped her in the chair.  There she has dominated ever since.  Taed was annoyed with me because he didn’t want her to occupy his chair (eminent domain notwithstanding, there is a hair issue), but it was too late.  She’d already taken over like it was October 1939.

While I have been VERY happy that she uses the litter box and stays out of the garbage, she does seem to get up on things.  We found her package of “treats” gnawed on (of course some sort of aluminum wrapper) and some sick next to it.  She definitely needs access to food.  The other day she managed to get Taed to follow her downstairs to show him she was without food or drink.  Today, she discovered the food bag when I went to feed her.  I’m betting she will just help herself in the future.

She also has an incredible desire to be outside.  She is a thwarted huntress.  We should just rename her Artemis (given that she doesn’t know her name AT ALL it wouldn’t be a big deal.  Seriously, Keb thinks of her as Mittens, Taed calls her Lucy (after our old broken cat), and I refer to her as Boots (my Mom’s cat who Socks resembles) so she’s already confused) to seal the deal. She has jumped from our balcony railing to the neighbor’s garage roof.  She has climbed under our fence.  Truly, she wants to be outside chasing bird and squirrel.

And I had been perplexed about the number of small items in weird places. I’m now certain she either plays with them or drags them around or both.  Seriously, there’s a fuzzy pink toy at the end of our bed.  It wasn’t there last night.  Taed thinks she’s presenting us with her kill.  I don’t know.  I just know that it’s her house now, and I just happen to live here.


One thought on “Socks Doesn’t Share & Other Stories

  1. Andy says:

    Aw, cute kitty. My cat Caterina claimed the foot of our bed and refused to move from there unless it involved food (with a preference for the trader joes stinky cat tuna)

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