El Andalous - Cleo Update

 

Cleo Chilling

I promise I won’t make this into a cat blog. I’ll just do this one and then give it a rest, at least for a while.

At first, I didn’t let Cleo into my bedroom. I was thinking of getting a second cat to keep Cleo company, so wanted to keep it Cleo-free for the second cat to have a safe haven. However, Joke thought that, as an only cat, Cleo may be jealous. After that, I gave up on the second cat idea and let Cleo into my bedroom in the mornings. It was still off-limits at night as I like to have the door closed (meaning she can’t access the litter tray and she always poops at night).

She loves to sleep in the storage area under my bed. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but she gets under the bed and then wriggles in through the slats to get into the storage compartment beneath my mattress. I don’t really like it when she goes there as she sleeps for hours and I can’t see her. But she likes it.

When I wake up in the morning, she’s very talkative. She winds herself round my legs and talks away. I interpreted this as her being pleased to see me. However, one day, she shot past me and straight into the bedroom. So maybe she was just glad I’d come out of the bedroom so she could have her turn. I felt used.

She knows my bedtime routine now, so as soon as I clean my teeth, she positions herself in front of my bedroom door so that it’s very difficult for me to get in without her also entering. More stress!

Last night, I tried letting her in the bedroom at night. I thought if she slept in the storage area under the mattress, it should be easy. Instead, she started off by trying to tear the mosquito net to get outside, so I had to shut my balcony door (I don’t want rats coming in). Then she bounded about, onto my bed, off my bed, onto my bed, off my bed. Silence. Then I’d worry where she was. She came onto my bed and slept for maybe an hour, then she wanted to play; her paw nudged my shoulder. She’s twelve years old; I’d never seen her so playful.

At four o’ clock on the morning, I ushered her out. The next hour she sat on the other side of the door making a load of noise, leaping up at the door and trying to reach the handle. I’m not letting her in again at night! Lesson learned.

The main stress has been over food. Every time I eat, but particularly when I eat chicken (which is often), she’ll climb on my chair. Over and over. Or she’ll pretend she’s not interested and then sneak up from the sofa where she can jump from there onto the table. I had to erect a whole load of stuff on the dining table so she couldn’t do that.

It's ruining my enjoyment of my meals.

And when she didn’t win, she went on hunger strike. She didn’t eat for two days. Then I panicked because I read if cats don’t eat for two days, they can die of kidney disease. I gave her some canned food, and she wolfed it down. Phew.

I tried to get her back to the dried food (which she’d been eating without complaint before), but she didn’t eat anything. I tried mixing it in with the canned food. She spat out all the dried food onto the floor.

I gave in, and now I feed her canned food. No big deal, really, but I do feel she’s calling the shots and not me. I hope at some point, she’ll accept that she’s not getting any of my chicken and will stop.

Funnily, at first, she’d always want cuddles after our supper arguments – almost as if making sure we were still on good terms despite our fights over the food. And, of course, I do still love her despite this.

She now sits on my lap, so that’s more progress. Today, she literally sprung from the other couch directly onto my lap (claws out for the landing – ouch!). No warning. She’s interrupted this blog three times by barging onto my lap and then getting too hot and going off elsewhere. I don’t like to say no, as I like having her on my lap and it’s a bonding experience. I’m pleased to have gained her trust and her love and don’t want to be turning that away.