The First Month
So that Jonesy wouldn’t be lonely I barricaded one half of the kitchen, left him some balls to play with and made recordings of my voice singing… “I Tawt I taw a puddy tat,” so that he wouldn’t be lonely. He yawned.
By chance he found an old cardboard box I had forgotten to throw out and he played in it for hours. He also amused himself playing with his tail and other parts of his body.
When Jonesy managed to climb over the barricade I had no choice but to let him roam the whole apartment. He hopped up and down the stairs to the loft, searched every nook and cranny, explored every drawer and cupboard, and sharpened his claws on my sofa. Fearing he would ruin the sofa completely, I immediately bought him a scratching post.
According to the manual, as soon as I came home at night I was to go over to the post, scratch it and exclaim with great enthusiasm, That feels so good! Oh my goodness, does that feel good! Ooooo!
I hoped that this would encourage Jonesy to do the same. I did this for several days, feeling incredibly foolish as I did so. I finally gave it up after a couple walking beneath my window yelled out something about getting a room.
Fortunately, Jonesy had understood what I was trying to teach him and attacked the scratching post as if it was his enemy. Now I left for work confident that my sofa would not be ruined. The moment I returned home Jonesy clambered all over me purring happily. After I fed him, he’d race backwards and forwards, leap in the air, climb the curtains, until a short time later, exhausted, he would lie down wherever he was and quickly sink into the arms of Morpheus. As often as not I would wake in the morning to find that he had crawled onto my bed and had fallen asleep on my chest. I couldn’t believe how much pleasure this furry ball of innocence gave me.
Oh, Jonesy just woke up and has something to say…..
I was surrounded by brothers and sisters when I was born and then by lots of cats in the shelter, so of course I was lonely all by myself in the apartment! And having Mr. V’s voice coming out of nowhere at odd moments scared the daylights out of me especially when he began to sing. If it wasn’t for that voice I might still be behind the barricade.
As soon as I climbed over Mr. V taught me how to use the scratching post. When I did he gave me a treat. I hoped this would be different than the name thing but sure enough as soon as I got into the habit of using it he stopped giving me treats. I thought maybe if I pooped on the carpet he would give me treats to go in the litter box but it didn’t work that way. The balls he gave me were all right but the box was better. I liked hiding in it and then jumping out as he walked past and digging my claws into the fleshy part of his thighs. But best of all was falling asleep on his chest. His stomach was nicer because it was softer but it made so many noises during the night that it woke me up.
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