Who’s the boss?
We adopted a tiny little vicious Russian Blue mix kitten, who had been rescued from a dog with ill intentions. She had been traumatized. It took over an hour before we could tell if her back was broken because she wouldn’t move — only her eyes would follow us.
4 month old Russian Blue
Lily Mae (aka Lily Mae Belle as I’m fond of calling her or invisi-kitty as my son calls her – because she can hide anywhere) has become an integral part of our family. I’ve declared that her name means, “Crazy Flower.” (Yes, we love Bambi and Thumper.) She even has her own seat at the table and eats most meals with us — we don’t allow paws on the table, though.
It has been a constant struggle keeping her in the house recently. She will take any and every opportunity to race outside. We are terrified to allow her to go out because she’s so tiny and our beloved Sandy disappeared one morning without warning.
She was a free spirit, though. Sandy was a neighborhood cat, one of about 8 feral cats I used to feed, most of the cats wouldn’t come near me, but they never missed a meal. I watched them from inside. Sandy was different, she just decided to move in one day. She always came and went as she pleased. In fact, we had her for 6-months before we ever considered purchasing a litter box. She always did her business outside.
Image via Wikipedia
We don’t want to lose Lily but we don’t want her to be unhappy either. However, every time Lily gets out, she acts like a wild animal. She zips back and forth, runs full speed up and down the hills surrounding our home. It takes my son and I working together to tease her back home — sometimes taking several hours. She never wants to come back home.
One afternoon she actually got outside. We tried for hours to get her to come back inside. Trying to get away from us, she bolted up a pine tree near our house and, unable to figure out how to climb down, she kept climbing higher and higher. She was only 3 months old. We ended up having to shake her out of the tree. We were sure she was injured — since she landed on her back. The fall didn’t even faze her. She is more cautious about climbing trees these days, but that hasn’t stopped her from climbing of course.
Lily has been acting so depressed the past couple of days that we decided she was born to be free and allowed her to run free outside, for most of the past two days. It’s been heartbreaking for us. We constantly worry that something will happen to her.
We’ve had a constant power struggle to determine the Alpha Dog between Lily and I. She actually bites my hand when she’s hungry and wants me to feed her. Most cats just meow and rub up against your leg, but not this girl. I hate being bitten, not realizing at first what she was telling me, I would bite her ear back. She did not like that at all but she learned to nibble, instead of leaving puncture marks in my hand.
This evening she was out, wandering too far from home — much further than I am comfortable with. I had been trying to keep an eye on her and ignore her at the same time. My theory was that she would come home – eventually – on her own terms.
I would go outside and call her name, she would come flying up or down the hill, zip past me and keep right on going. I tried explaining to her that I was going to bed and she needed to come into the house. She didn’t care. Nothing fazed her, until…
I came back inside, picked up her spare bed from the livingroom and her fuzzy cover from dad’s desk that she likes to lay on — items well scented by her. I put them out on the deck, under my chair. The next time she came flying up on the deck, she took one look at her bed, I opened the door walked inside and told her, let’s go to bed and inside she came.
I had almost given up hope of her ever willingly coming back into the house but I guess even she is smart enough to realize sleeping in the house is much nicer than a cold windy deck. I have reason to hope though, just now I opened the door to go outside and she was waiting there to be allowed inside. Apparently, she didn’t realize all she had to do was push on the door. I had made sure it wasn’t latched.
I am thankful for the rainy weather. The cold, wet ground isn’t as pleasing to her delicate sensibilities, so it’s a tiny bit easier to get her to come home. I can’t wait to introduce her to snow. By next summer, she will be older and hopefully much wiser. With any luck, she’ll also be trained to return home.
Unfortunately, I’m positive she still thinks she’s the boss.
