When Roarke was but a wee kitten I disowned him. Obviously things worked out okay (he may have some abandonment issues) but he's now a permanent member of our household. It definitely taught him to fear the wrath of mummy.
Back when Roarke was a kitten we hadn't long been in our new home. I'd done masses of laundry ready for our new wardrobes to arrive and it was all sat in a cardboard box in the corner of the living room. Now this box was massive, like the kind you might buy a washing machine in and I had filled it to the brim with clean clothes, ready for the iron.
One night we were sat watching TV when we noticed that Roarke had hopped into the box, I went over to scoop him out and what did I discover.....I discovered that he was PIDDLING all over my laundry. Well I was furious and told him so, he watched me dolefully as I discovered he had been doing his "business" in my laundry for at least a week and that the clothes underneath were ruined and cat-pee stinky.
I held Roarke up in front of me and told him "That's it, I don't love you any more you're no longer welcome in this house, and you can find a new home"
I walked across to the balcony door, opened it, put him down on the other side I shut the door, then proceeded to start putting all my laundry back into piles for washing while muttering expletives.
I'd hear the tiny kitten meows of him coming through the door and I'd remind him to go find a new home if he thinks he's going to wee on everything.
Throughout this D is doubled over with laughter at my anger and Roarke's attempts to apologise.
Eventually I opened the door again and Roarke stared up at me with his big ol' kitten eyes and I asked him. "HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LESSON?" I received a tiny "meow" so I scooped him up, told him I might be able to love him again and went back inside.
I have to say since that day he has been good as gold and the moment I say his name in an angry tone he's all apologetic. He knows the wrath of mummy is to be feared. and as I write this he is laid across my knee with a black smudge across his nose from some mischief or other.
awwww... teeny kitten mews! And he probaly already knew you were a sucker and he had nothing to worry about!
ReplyDeleteMonkey and I do that routine every time she barfs under my bare foot. True, my bare foot isn't on top when she does it, that's all future-ian, but when it happens, I cold-shoulder her and refuse to give her her dues as she gymnastically licks her butt. Then we make up.
ReplyDeleteNo kissing, though. Really, now, post-butt kisses? Ew.
That being said, I miss tiny kitten days.
Oliver was a piddler at the old house. Luckily he left that habit there. ONCE he peed on The Boy's rug while The Boy was watching...but I had completely forgotten to do the late week cleaning of the litter box so that was my fault. My grey boy is quite fastidious.
ReplyDeleteKitten mews will soften the hardest of hearts. I always was thankful that they chose to go on my laundry or on my bed comforters instead of on the carpet. :)
ReplyDeleteHilarious! Good for you for not breaking and giving in too soon for the kitten meows.
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