The cat has become insolent. I don’t have a clue what’s gotten into her lately, but she’s being bad for the first time since we’ve had her.
She’s not allowed on the table. Yet, when I come home I see her all cuddled up in a nest she’s made from the tablecloth, curled next to a place mat. When I yell at her, she has the audacity to look at me with an expression that can only be described as befuddled before sauntering off the table.
I have been finding her on the kitchen counter, again giving me that “what, you don’t like this?” look. When the kitchen window is open and the birds that live right outside are chirping, I don’t get all that mad. I mean, I make her get down but I understand that a front row seat to bird buffet is hard for a cat to resist. But last night I came in from the back porch and passed by the kitchen on the way to the stairs and saw her leap from the counter. The non-window counter. What was she doing? Staring at the coffee maker? Licking the dishes in the sink? I don’t get it.
If she’s not doing that, she’s openly taunting me. She hops up into a dining room chair (allowed), stares me right in the eye, and then reaches out a paw to the table. This causes me to menacingly say her name. At that point, she tries to play it off. “Oh! No no no, I was just stretching, you see. Not doing anything bad at all.” And then she tests my limits by stretching toward the table a couple more times until I actually yell at her.
I spend a lot of time yelling, it seems. I remember saying once that yelling at my old cat, Koda, made me sound like James Brown. It was a constant, “Ow! Get Down!” funky groove that echoed through that condo.
I can see the cat, right this moment, all adorable and napping on the couch. She is so deceptively innocent. And everyone loves her. Guests threaten to steal her, especially once she’s laid a heavy flirt on them by rolling onto her back and gazing at them in adoration. No one ever listens when I warn them of her trickery.
But soon I’ll head to bed and not long after that she’ll wander in, prance along my hip, and purr at me. She will crawl all over me and chatter, convincing me I’m her favorite person in the entire world. All will be forgiven. Until tomorrow, when I find her making eyes at the table once more. Horrible cat.