Teenaged Cats

My sons are well past their teenaged years, but I still recognize the danger signs.  I've seen one cat safely through the worst of his teens, but now Huck has entered that stage.

I never realized that cats have a teenaged stage until we got two kittens!  When Tugby was a teenager he rushed and scooted through the house like a mad thing.  He leapt into our laps and stared piercingly at us, totally involved in his own world.  Sometimes his tail would fluff up to several times its normal size for no apparent reason and he'd charge off in the opposite direction.  The antics were basically a solitary pastime for Tugby, but of course Chester really never felt well enough to participate.

Huck, on the other hand, has become a holy terror.  He has discovered the joys of playing in forbidden places and I have to be very careful to close all cupboards and doors when I leave a room.  Last week I rescued him from the dish cupboard, the recycling bin, and underneath the bathroom vanity.  

These days Huck's prime time starts when we go to bed!  Last night we pulled him out of the kitchen sink twice, rescued a fork from being chased around the floor, and finally closed the door so he couldn't rampage any more.  I can't believe how observant Huck is, how he takes careful note of everything he could possibly get into and then sneaks back when we're safely in bed.

Another really busy time is when I'm cooking supper.  I always feed the cats before I start the meal on the theory that they'll be full and not interested in what's going on, but it doesn't work that way.  I have to squirt both cats frequently to discourage them from climbing up on the counter.  I also spend a lot of time picking them up and evicting them from the counter.  All utensils and used pots have to be immediately immersed in hot soapy water, to discourage kitty sampling.  All pans on the stove have to have lids on them, and anything waiting to be cooked has to stay in the microwave or the fridge until added to the meal.  I have never used a microwave so often in my life but only as a storage device, not necessarily to cook with.

As soon as we finish eating everything is put in the dishwasher or hand washed.  All leftovers are immediately refrigerated.  While we are having our evening tea, Huck is up on the counters, prowling around the table, and generally snooping in things that are none of his business.  Tugby never misbehaved so blatantly.  With Huck's dubious example, he is getting more adventurous, but one good soaking with water and he settles down.   Sometimes I think Huck figures he's waterproof or has a personal umbrella because nothing deters him from his goal until it has been achieved.  No matter how many times I squirt him, or pick him up and put him on the floor, or take him into another room, he comes right back to what he was doing.