This Means War!

You might recall the odd behavior of Martha, the boy cat of late. Martha came to be a part of my pet kingdom when he fell from the lifted bucket of the front-end loader about 6 years ago. He was but a scrap of fur with just opened eyes that stared up at me.

I am allergic to cat dander, but that does not stop me from loving cats. We had a cat, Gremlin, when we moved here and inherited the camp cat already here. Cats are spiteful, you know. They are determined to have things their way and will gladly offer up punishment if you do not comply. Gremlin was known for peeing on freshly made beds to announce his displeasure.

Martha has always been an independent soul. He roams the park at will and comes inside whenever he pleases. His usual habit was to hunt all night, then spend the day sleeping on my pillow. Great for allergies. I always make sure to hide the pillow that my head rests on under another pillow for Martha. I am nothing, if not accommodating.

Martha ignored the litter box, preferring to do his business in the great outdoors. Upon our return from our trip north in December, Martha suddenly changed his habits. He started using the litter box exclusively and staying indoors for days on end. Prior to this he would wake me pretty soon after falling asleep if we forgot to put him out before bed.

He made his new routine clear to me one night when he scratched the wall by my bed in the wee hours. He waited for me to stumble out of my bed and walk to the back door to let him out. I stood there waiting as he strolled past the open door. He looked over his shoulder as he jumped the gate and sauntered into the laundry room where his food and litter box are located. He climbed carefully into the litter box, all the while looking at me. Cats are strange creatures, always gazing deeply into your eyes hypnotically.

The past week or so has been different with Martha going back to his old routine. We have a bedtime routine here. I take out the canines and HeWho has to have that last smoke is responsible for taking Martha out with him. HeWho smokes is not as reliable as I am. Martha will sometimes miss his exit for the night and I will be awakened to facilitate his needs.

Last night, with all the sleet and snow and ice, I was loathe to put my furry creature out in that mess. I was trying to keep him safe and warm. I was just drifting into a nice slumber when the devil cat came into my bedroom and clawed at the wall and window. My signal to arise and open the back door. I got up to speak with Martha about the weather. He followed me, but when I opened the door he sniffed the cold air disdainfully and promptly jumped the gate to his domain. I went back to bed, just a little annoyed.

FIVE more times he used our special signal. I responded by hissing at him and swatting him. Finally I got up and made my way through the dark house to the back door. The devil cat hid under furniture and taunted me until I caught him and flung him out the door at 4:03 this morning. I heard his feet hit the icy grass and made my way back to bed ....... fully awake and extremely annoyed. Stupid cat, I was just trying to keep him warm and dry.

Just 3 hours later when I felt like I had just gotten my feet warm and had finally drifted off again, the early rising trio of dogs summoned me to take them out. Cujo was glued to my side with sweat, while Eddie was poking around with his cold nose in my neck. I felt Wall-E take a long stretch before leaping to the floor. My night was over.

Martha, the boy cat was waiting at the back door, looking smug. He had vomited all over the stoop. Eddie was elated to be able to play in something nasty. Martha walked in like he owned the place, his head held high, totally ignoring me.

I drank my coffee and tried to wake myself. I dozed in my chair, three dogs in my lap providing warmth for my feet. Finally I went to shower and fully wake myself. This is when I make the bed and gather my apparel for my day. I spoke to Martha while I pulled out underwear and socks. He refused to meet my gaze.

I readied myself to scoop him up and move him in order to pull the covers up and make my bed .... and that's when I saw that he had yakked all over the bed!!!! He apparently gorged himself on cat food when he came in, while I dozed in my chair, in order to show me his disapproval of the previous night. He may think that he has gotten the best of me, but I am the hand that feeds him ..... and THIS MEANS WAR! Martha, the boy cat had better watch his back.