Lilac Colored Glasses

The cats.

Holy meow mix Batman, save me from these friggin cats.

First there’s Luna.

Who is in heat this week.

Like for really real, nasty ass, screaming to get humped heat. Our baby has grown up.

And she’s a total tramp.

It started on Sunday. The raucous howling for a good ol’ tomcat ramming, the endless pacing, the glisteny nether regions that she kept sticking in my face while I was trying to watch the Super Bowl. Bleeeurgh. Little Luna will mince into the room, ass sticking as high up into the air as possible, bitch at CB and I for a few minutes and then, when she realizes we aren’t going to pimp her out to the local street cats, she goes out into the hall to sulk and scream like the Apocolypse is upon us.

And in somewhere this week Rex decided that this was a good time to turn into a total bastard. He made a run out the front door on Monday when I came home from grocery shopping. I ended up practically crawling under a parked car to get him to come back into the house. Then at some point yesterday he decided to take a big old crap on the downstairs carpet…less than 6 inches from a perfectly good litterbox. Today when I got home from a 10 hour day at work (which is a post in itself-you can count on hearing about it tomorrow) he nearly got out again, only I pinned him to the wall (gently) with my leg. While I heated a bowl of rice he sat outside the kitchen and commenced with tearing open the side of the bag of potatoes, spilling spuds all over the floor.

On my way upstairs I noticed that he also had knocked all the empty cat food boxes we had piled up in the landing down the steps. You might wonder where CB was during Rex’s reign of terror. That’s a good question. I’m chalking it up to the power of selective hearing. I hope this little quirk of CB’s disappears before we have human children or my sanity may not last very long (not that I’ve ever been particularly sane or anything).

Anyway, needless to say, I was more than slightly aggravated, but above all I was scared. Rex almost got out the front door tonight, in the dark and I didn’t have the energy to chase him. Nor can I leave the door open and risk Luna getting out while she’s in heat in order to retrieve Rex.

So I did what I’ve been avoiding ever since this little incident; I put Rex’s tag on his collar.

I was hoping that keeping the same collar and just putting the tag with the updated info on wouldn’t trigger his kitty autism, but it did. He is now hiding under the covers of the bed, his muscles rippling, eyes dilated, apparently afraid to move because OHMYGODTHENAMETAGWILLEATME if he does.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I was okay letting him go tagless as long as he was docilely staying indoors but he’s not anymore and I would never forgive myself if he escaped and we never saw him again because I didn’t put a tag on his collar.
I’m hoping he’ll be able to adapt within the next fex days or so, but if he insists on being all spastic, I’ll gladly take him to the vet next Friday when I take Luna to get fixed.

Maybe she can give him some kitty Xanax.

Maybe she can give me some too.

Related posts:

1. The Great Escape
2. Puppy…erm…Kitty Love (with pictures!)
3. Crazy Busyness
4. Alley Cats
5. Only The Cats Are Privvy to my Wisdom
6. Cat-atonic
7. Mr. Mistoffolees is at it Again
8. Music Monday – Cats