My Asshole Cat. Part 3 - Staging the Coup

I had been told that the training procedure with cats was difficult. It's not. Mine had me trained in two days.

~Bill Dana

It has been several weeks now since outdoor cat made her appearance and there is no sign of her leaving despite all of our encouragement. It’s clear she wants to stay. So, she has plotted her takeover.

I recognize and easily admit that I am the weak link. She has broken me down using clever sleep deprivation techniques. She has walked across my remote control in the middle of the night waking me to the fevered pitch of late night info-mercials. She has stepped on my snooze button releasing country music into my otherwise silent night. With my defenses down, she manipulated me with cuddling and soft, soothing purring, focusing her feline attentions on me until I submitted to the Stockholm Syndrome that has defined our relationship.

Our household rhythm has slowly changed to follow the beat of our little outdoor drummer. Wake-up call is precisely 5:45 am each and every day without fail. Outdoor cat jumps to the bedside table where she quickly bats any loose objects onto the floor before short-jumping her way to the bed. Once there, she begins with a “brrrip brrrrip” to signal her presence (in case I missed the remote control hitting the floor) and then takes position on the side of my pillow that I am currently facing. As is our usual routine, I roll over and she begins noisily cleaning herself until I throw back the covers in surrender.

We traipse down the stairs together as she commences the morning workout with agility exercises, zigzagging her way down the stairs in front of me. Once downstairs, I prepare the coffee maker and my servitude begins. The cats are fed twice daily – once when I wake (which outdoor cat orchestrates) and once when I return from work (though it took a while for outdoor cat to understand that this does not mean every time I come in the door from outside). Once the cats are fed, I turn my attention to the hated litter box which is scooped twice daily and thoroughly scrubbed once a week. While I may be able to tolerate cats, I absolutely hate the smell of a dirty litter box. I have designed a concept for the outdoor kitty litter box which I will experiment with once the warmer weather arrives.

This winter has brought with it some very hostile weather which meant that “Outdoor Cat” has become a bit of a misnomer. I suppose we could rename her “Fairweather Outdoor Cat” or simplify that with the slightly more fitting acronym FOC, but I’ve always thought pet names should be “call worthy.” You know, you stand at your door and call out the name of your pet – here Skippy, here Buster, here "insert name here" -- so it must be inoffensive, short, catchy and identifiable at high volume. “My Asshole Cat” is not call-worthy, but I’m thinking MAC may be a fit for this little furry jerk. Move it Mac! Hey Mac, what’s the problem? Yup...Mac is the winner.

Mac heads to the vet this Friday for a full work-up. I’ve been avoiding this appointment but it’s clear that this cat is officially ours so, we’ll concede that she staged a successful coup. The vet appointment, I can re- frame for my own purposes as a calculated maneuver recommended by General Sun Tzu…”know thy enemy.”