It was a rough night.
So apparently having a baby cat is not totally unlike having a baby anything else. I had a mini-breakdown last night about being an unfit foster mother for Bentley the kitten when he wouldn’t stop crying. Well, squeaking, really. It seemed to be a lonely, lost squeak — not angry or obnoxious — that would start when he was (or thought he was) left alone. I’d find him and say hello, and he’d look surprised and run away. I think he was expecting to see a cat — specifically his mother — not a devastingly attractive 5’4″ human lady. I tried everything to make him stop — I’d pick him up and pet him, take him to his food bowl, toss him his ball — all of it just illicited starng and more squeaking. I tryied playing with his new toy fish that not only didn’t distract him, but TERRIFIED him. It was exhausting!
I was feeling so guilty about his confusion I called everyone I know who has ever touched a cat and asked them why he hates me so much. It was hot in my apartment, and the thunder & rain outside was not helping our mood. Finally, as I was on the phone telling my friend, Paul, that Bentley’s slipper attacks were starting to seem pointed and mean-spirited, I found a giant creepy bug on my wall and almost spit up from the anxiety.
An hour later Paul showed up to make sure we were still alive. Of course, by NOW Bentley had calmed down and was the picture of adorable kitten happiness, so my earlier freak-outs seemed crazy. I swore that he had been upset and inconsolable for hours, and that he was now quietly sleeping in my lap just to make me look bad. The rain stopped and everything seemed fine; then Paul calmly picked a 5,000-legged horrible bug off of my window and Bentley and I both passed out cold.
I think you have a potential children’s book on your hands here.
There’s this awesome neighborhood stray right behind my building that lots of people take care of. He cries like a baby and once I thought it was a “Help me!” cry. But realized that (1) it was either him being territorial with another cat trying to get on his turf or (2) excited to see another lady stray I have dubbed Nermal.
That’s when I realized I might be projecting something onto Camus the kitty. Despite the fact he’s cool.
I don’t know if any of that made sense. Take it for what it’s worth.
i hate bugs sooooo much. i am glad i have a big tough roommate i can make do it.
although i only seem to see them when he is out of town… hmm…
and by ‘do it’, i mean fucking kill them so hard until they are totally dead.
Have you taken Bentley Skinner to the vet yet? It’s important! I would try to find out from the vet about how old Bentley probably is.…it might explain some of his needy crying stuff…?? Seriously, I know there are a couple of vets in your neigborhood, Sis.….xxOLDER WISER SKINNER SISTER
HEY! It’s My B-Day today! Call me and sing me a B-day song! NOW! DAMMIT!
Being surrounded by whining can get you down.
Glad Bentley’s happier and possibly finding good roommates.
Hope you called your aged sister.
PS– Bugs are good. (Remember one might be your reincarnated grannie.)
I have received a flurry of comments and emails worrying over Bentley the Kitten, so let me put your fears to rest.
1) He has been to the vet. I took him the day after I found him. It was a good time — everyone loved him, he got his ears cleaned out and we stopped for Indian food on the way home.
2) I figured out the squeaking. He is alone for most of the day, so when I come home he gets very excited and squeaks a lot. He runs around and jumps on me and hides from me and shows me things, then after a while he chills out and collapses on the floor.
3) I think I found him a home. Some lovely comedy friends had been wanting a cat, and Bentley is perfect for them. He’s a well-socialized, people-loving kitten, and he LOVES improv — especially early Nichols and May — so they’ll get along great.
4) He is no longer scared of the fish. In fact, he has now attacked and killed it many times. I’ll try to get a video up soon.