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A week with Jack

August 17, 2008

Jack is a sweet kitten, whose only goal in life, if seems, is to give love. In many different ways: cuddling with you, purring louder than a motorcycle, and kissing. At this point, my chin is actually feeling a little dried out, from the amount of licking it has taken. This is both a good and bad thing, as it’s very nice to know that my cat loves me, but is a little difficult to handle at two in the morning.

And here’s the rub. He adores me (and Trevor) so much that he wants to be with us at every hour. And he doesn’t seem to realize that us humans like seven plus hours of sleep a night. He wants to play at three in the morning, so in his brain, WE want to do the same. I’ll say for the record that this is untrue. So it wasn’t until Thursday night that either he calmed down, or I was so exhausted that I just slept through his bedtime shenanigans.

Last night, he decided that Trevor was his favorite and harassed him all night. We’re doing what we can to let Jack know that we love him but also let him know that nighttime is ‘entertain yourself’ time. I’m writing this off right now as a mixture of kittenish energy and excitement of a new home. He is only five months old. He has only been here a week.

On the mouse front: I finally broke down and called my landlord, and he sent his son over to bait under the house. I’m not sure if that got done, but it’s been very quiet in the kitchen. Except that sometimes I hear noises and I run in to see if I can see a mouse, and it’s just the water heater turning on, or a bag falling over. I refer to these as ghost mice. They’re not quite dicks.

EXCEPT that they’re not all ghosts. Last night Trevor and I had Chinese, and when he got up at whatever godly hour he woke up (volunteering here: http://diydays.com/), he finished off the schezuan eggplant and
dumped the rest in the trash. I have a usual policy of no food in the trash, because of the mice, but I’d been a bit more lax about it lately, what with the mice seemingly gone. Later this morning, I heard the tell-tale shuffling sounds of a mouse, and open my trash to see it struggling to stay afloat in about an inch of liquid. It looked so pitiful. I did my normal routine, and just took it and the whole trash bag out to the outside garbage and hoped for the best (or worst, as the case may be). And left Trevor a slightly nasty voice mail about his garbage habits. Really: who wants an inch of liquid at the bottom of a garbage can for more than a week? And yes, I’m so good about recycling and composting that it takes me about two or three weeks to fill a garbage bag.

Excuse me, I’m going to play with my cat and feel superior.

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One comment

  1. Congrats on your new addition. Jack is adorable.



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