March 20, 2008
Just kidding… we wouldn’t really give away our cats. We may be fantasizing about it ALL THE TIME lately, but we wouldn’t really do it.
Even if we totally should.
I never thought I would lose interest or tolerance or (gasp) love for my cats once I had a baby. But as it turns out- it’s just something that happens. I mean, we loved our cats when we got them. They were our babies, our furry-children. And since we didn’t have anything else better to do with our time, the fact that they were destroying things in our house (including our dryer, OH YES, Gracie broke our dryer.) and begging for food while we ate dinner and streaking around the house at 4am making a ton of noise- it was all ‘cute’. It was ‘endearing’. It was just what they did.
But now… now our patience is much lower. Maggie takes up 110% of our attention and affection and love, and we just can’t devote the time to playing with the cats and petting them and rubbing their bellies and scratching behind their ears. I still feed them, of course, and I keep their litter box scooped (even if I need to have Google Calendar send me reminders twice a week TO SCOOP THE CAT POO) Scotty even sleeps in our bed with us every night, but apparently that’s not enough. They want more. *sigh*
Now at 3am when we’re up with the baby for whatever reason, and one of the cats decides it’s time to play, it’s not so cute anymore. IT DISTURBS THE BABY. And Rule Number 1 is DO NOT DISTURB THE BABY. Strike 1. And every single freaking time Maggie eats in her high chair, Scotty waits until our backs are turned and reaches his dirty little paw up on the tray and tries to steal whatever it is she’s eating. No matter how many times I clap my hands and stomp and yell and even swat his nose, he will not give up. Strike 2. And if I get pissed off enough and lock him in our bedroom when he’s messing with her food, he scratches at the door to get out. Strike 3. And today, he left a nice 3 inch scratch on my arm when I tried to relocate him away from her chair. Strike BAZILLION.
Dan’s solution to the problem is of course to “throw their asses outside”, which I can’t bring myself to do. First of all, they have NEVER gone outside, and I have my doubts as to their survival out there (to which Dan says: “So what?!”) Secondly, 95% of the aggravation is Scotty, the male (figures, heh) Gracie mostly keeps to herself and just wants pet now and then. She never begs for food and rarely makes much noise, except for when Scotty is eating her neck, in which case I can’t blame her. So punishing Gracie for Scotty’s annoying-ness doesn’t seem fair. Plus, having outside-and-inside cats just seems like an even bigger pain in the butt- let them in, let them out, oh look he ate something gross and now it’s partially digested and laying on the rug. No thank you.
Like I said, I don’t really want to give them away. (Depends on what we can get for them! heh. I kid.) I like the fact that Maggie, and any future kids we have, will grow up with pets. I think that’s a great thing (especially when I can pawn off poop-scooping as a Weekly Chore, woohoo!) Also, I have to say we have been pleasantly surprised at how well they’ve done with a very mobile infant crawling after them and trying to eat them. And I do still, somewhere deep down, love the kitties.
It’s just currently being drowned in the blood Scotty drew from my arm, and blocked out by the Annoying-ness and cat hair everywhere.