What Exactly Did We Adopt?
A kitten or a packet of trouble?
A little over a month ago, we adopted a three-month-old kitten. At least, we think it’s a kitten. With each passing day we’re less sure. Is little Nic a kitten, or is he a puppy, a lion cub, a grasshopper, a baby Spiderman?
He’s a sweet little thing, but between the hours of 8:00 and 12:00, he’s a royal terror. As soon as he wakes up in the morning, he starts playing. His all-time favorite toy is a colorful plush ball, but another ball, a fake mouse, or anything else will do. He seems to think that everything is his. If another cat plays with a ball, he will abandon his toy and steal whatever the other cat is playing with. And he doesn’t play carefully, with Nic it’s full steam ahead.
When it’s time for breakfast, he’s the first one in the kitchen and stands by the fridge. As soon as I open the fridge he slips inside. When I make the cats’ breakfast, Halley and Greyson eat at one plate, Holly at another plate, and Nic has his own bowl. He gobbles up his food like he hasn’t eaten in a week, and when he’s finished with his bowl, he moves on to the others’ plates. Safe to say, he has the appetite of a lion.
In case you’re feeling sorry for Nic and think that the poor thing is hungry, think again. Day and night there is a bowl of dry food in the kitchen, alongside a bowl of water. Halley, Holly, and Greyson neatly eat from the bowl, but not Nic. Oh no, he likes nothing better than scratching the nibbles out of the bowl and then playing with his food.
Another thing that he likes to do is putting his front paw on the water bowl and tipping the bowl over. As you can imagine, water everywhere. As the water touches his feet, Nic gets a fright, jumps up, lands in his bowl of dry nibbles with the result that the kitchen is now strewn with soggy nibbles.
It was clear that we had to do something. We needed a water bowl that Nic couldn’t tip over. The solution was simple … a dog bowl. We bought three of them. A bowl for food, a water bowl for the kitchen, and a water bowl for my bedroom.
While Nic and the others are active in the morning, come afternoon they all retire to their respective place for a five-hour afternoon nap.
When they wake up, the circus starts again. Nic, his energy fully restored, chases the others and races them, at full speed, around the place. Every now and then, the cheeky little thing seeks out higher ground and waits for Halley or Greyson to come along. When one of them does, he launches himself, his four paws outstretched in mid-air, onto them. Young as he is, Nic knows not to do this to Holly though. Holly is the queen bee and nobody messes with the queen.
Come dinner time the cats get fed first. Halley and Greyson get their food on one plate, Holly on another, and Nic on a third. By the time they’re finished, our dinner is just about ready. At that time we have to put Nic either on the balcony or in my bedroom if we are to eat in peace and quiet. Even though Nic just finished his dinner, he’s relentless in trying to steal ours.
Out on the balcony, he sits there, head tilted to one side, looking at us with eyes that would melt a stone heart. Lately, he does more than merely looking at us though, he climbs the balcony door netting in an attempt to get in.
It’s not just food he’s interested in though, he wants anything and everything. Coffee, tea, chocolate milk, lemonade, juice, beer, he wants it all. He can’t have those things of course, because they are bad for him, but try telling Nic that.
If he’s like this at four months, I wonder what the future has in store for us.