cat naps: what luck

I tell Isaac all the time he is a lucky baby to have two kitty cats. We’re doing our best to foster mutual respect in the baby, cat arena but if Isaac could read my mind sometimes or understand what I tell these fur balls under my breath…

My cats have issues. Zap Mama and Emily are doing pretty well with the baby, but baby or not, they have issues, issues that complicate my already complex life.

Considering the potential for baby toy to become cat toy, they have been REALLY good. Still, every now and then Mike or I will say things like, "The cats have adopted the pacifier." or "The cats have transported fuzzy bear to the kitchen." And okay, why should Emily take the fall? When we say "cats," what we mean is "Zap Mama."

Both of our girls originally came to us from the SPCA as fosters – mama cats with litters. Emily had six little ones. Zap had four, but we lost the runt – don’t even bring me there.

We knew Zap was "special" right away. Let’s just suffice to say she needs a lot of attention, and I am the object of her pleas. But we’ll get back to her. Emily has always been the "normal" one of the two. Sure she had some scarcity issues when she arrived, constantly trying to bury her food bowl in the kitchen, but ya know, sometimes a soul goes through stuff. Over all, she was loving and sweet, got her people time in, then, unlike her hyper-neurotic sister, did normal cat things with the rest of her day, like sleep.

These days things are in – how shall I put it? – an "adjustment" period? Emily can only be described as clingy. She has taken up more and more of Zap’s worst habits. And Zap. Zap has stepped up her usual insanity of following me from room to room to room talking nonstop. Although I swear she understands 80% of what I say, I cannot seem to explain to her that going into the bedroom and meowing loudly as I’m finally getting the baby to sleep will not increase her time with me, but will stand to, in fact, sabotage her plans of having me stand next to the food bowl while she eats and wiggle her peacock feather just so between the futon and the floor. I’m not sure if any of you can imagine what it’s like to be so sleep deprived you can’t face the day, spend twenty minutes rocking the baby out and be on the brink of an hour’s relief, only to have to start from zero again because your CAT has decided to rule your life.

If Zap doesn’t cry and wake him up, she follows me every step so that I have no break from being – literally – pawed at day and night. If I close the door she will scratch at it incessantly – no matter what side of it I am on. If I put her outside she can and will meow loud enough still to wake up the baby. Both animals have been known of late to hurl their eleven pounds in a flying leap from the dresser onto my chest as I lie in bed in a tenuous sleep between the 12am and 3 am feedings.

Zap is ratcheting up her co-dependent behavior every day and Emily has begun to bury her food bowl again. Our little blended family is showing a few cracks. Frankly, I’m at my wit’s end. I can’t take it. I love these animals and I try to give them what time I can, but get me the pet psychologist, please!!

Just when I think I’ll lose it completely as I go in to get Isaac from another abbreviated nap, I see his face as he focuses on his kitty cats. It is luminous. He is in deep, deep love. He squeals and throws his hands forward, so excited he doesn’t know what to do. Emily rubs her head under his hand, forcing a pet. Zap rolls and yawns, causing Isaac to giggle and eat his fingers.

The other day when I got home from writing group, the sitter told me, "Your grey cat is really tolerant." Oh dear. We are working hard on Gentle, Isaac! Pet nice, with your flat hand, but we are far from mastery. "Before I could stop him, he had pulled her whiskers, then grabbed a handful of fur. She just sat there!" There is a pause. "She just sat there!!" she repeats. And then, "He’s a lucky baby."