Learning Curve

It seems to me that although many books indicate you can teach cats by judicious use of a spray bottle, it isn't working around this house. I am not a believer in the other books that say you can't teach cats, though. It is obvious the cats in this household know their names. They also know when it is time to eat and when it is time for me to go to bed. They know if they lay on their backs and waive their paws in the air someone will come by and scratch their bellies. They are teachable. They are just also very curious and determined--two traits that outweigh the other.

Directing a spray of water onto the top of feline noggins may make them run away from the task they were pursuing before being caught in the act, but it will not prevent them from returning to the activity. Especially later when you aren't around with the spray bottle.

Sometimes I find this irritating. Other times it is amusing. Many times it is frustrating. I guess that is one of the purposes of cats in our lives. They help us to experience and identify a large range of emotions.

As for the household pride, Cheddar is the most forgiving of all creatures on the face of the earth. No matter how many times I step on his tale, trip over him (and break two teeth in the process), or squirt him, he immediately comes back to let me know he loves me. Skids is the most tolerant, allowing Oyster to wallow him anywhere, anytime, anyhow. It would be hard to say who is the most playful. They each have their moments, but there is something special about watching Sammo chase his tail.

Sabrina stays on the fringes during the day, watching but not wanting to be touched. Once midnight hits, though, she is very vocal in her declaration that it is time for me to go to bed where she will deign to allow me to pet her. She likes to have me hold her tail--something I don't recall ever experiencing with another cat. As long as I have a loose grasp of her tail or a hand on her back or side, she is happy to purr and snuggle on or beside me.

Scooter sets a trap for the unwary, exposing his hourglass abdominal markings in a manner that makes one think that round tummy is ready for a rub. Once the hand makes contact the claws gently grasp the wrist and the teeth pretend to gnaw knuckles. He doesn't draw blood--most of the time.

Maggie is a purring machine. She is the least likely to make overt demands, just setting herself in a convenient spot for you to stop and pet her. And in her extremely optimistic way she begins purring loudly as soon as a person arrives on the scene, obviously sure of her irresistable allure. No need to wait until you reach out to pet her to express her satisfaction.

And that just leaves Daisy. I was determined to become her friend when I first joined this household. And it really didn't take too long for her to warm up to me--as much as she is capable of warming up to anyone other than Chill. She likes me to pet her. Some of the time. She purrs to show she appreciates the attention. Some of the time. Mostly she likes me to make the boys leave her alone. All of the time.

As for the learning curve. I think we learn as much from the critters as they do from us. Maybe they are more effective teachers.