I was bringing Sasha back to my house last weekend when I hit the deer. Since I’m superstitious, I didn’t want to bring her again that weekend, because I was afraid I’d hit something else. So I tried it this past weekend, and we made it all the way to Lynchburg. I had held off on bringing her since I moved, because I’ve been worried about how she’d adjust to living in a house with just me, away from her littermates and the rest of my family and the only home she’s ever known.
She spent the first 24 hours or so freaked out and hiding inside the couch, but since then, she seems to be adjusting pretty well. She’s eating and using the litterbox with no problems, and she’s following me around the house and flinging her rabbit-fur mice around to amuse herself and chilling next to me on the couch and, generally, acting like a pretty happy cat. She is, however, exponentially more vocal than she ever has been – and this cat has always been vocal. But she meows and chirps and chatters CONSTANTLY and sometimes I’m like my GOD, cat, I can’t hear the news, SHUT UP ALREADY. And she’s far more affectionate. Generally this is not a problem.
Last night, I was on the phone with Sammi at 6:00, which is when Sasha is used to eating dinner. She was climbing all over me and meowing and headbutting me and patting at my arm and generally making me crazy while I was lying on the couch chatting, and I pretty much ignored her.
And then she jumped on my chest and leaned over and bit my face.
It hurt, but not much. It marked, and at the time it looked pretty angry, but you can barely see the bitemark on my cheek today. It sort of just looks like a minor breakout. She has never bitten me once in her entire life until yesterday, and she didn’t bite me hard enough to do any serious damage. Which only convinces me that she nipped me on purpose to remind me that she would like to eat RIGHT FUCKING NOW IF THAT’S NOT A PROBLEM.
I did feed her right away, because I was sort of in shock and convinced that she might eat my leg if I didn’t, but I seriously hope she won’t try it again. Because not only is it not a lot of fun to get bitten, but I won’t feed her if she bites me again. Because if I do it again, it’s going to let her know that biting is an acceptable way to get my attention, and she’s going to start biting me whenever she wants anything. And that shit won’t fly.
But how in the hell do you discipline a cat? I’m not afraid of her or anything, but I am mildly concerned that she’s going to try it again. She’s also used to eating breakfast at 6:00 in the morning, which is when my mom gets up for work. I don’t get up for work until 7:30 or so now that I’ve moved, and so I’m trying to get her used to eating breakfast then. But she wants it at 6, or sometimes at 5, and this morning at 5:30 she woke me up by sitting two inches from my head and meowing directly into my face. And I was just awake enough to hope she wouldn’t try the biting again, because I’d chuck her fat ass across the room if she bit me when I was half-asleep. But she didn’t, so that’s good.
She seemed to know that she’d done something wrong yesterday, though, because even though I didn’t yell at her or smack her or anything, she sat as far across the room from me as possible for the rest of the evening, when every other night this week she’s tried to sit close enough to me to actually meld herself to my body.
Seriously, though, this biting thing? Not fun, but sort of funny.