August 16, 2009

• I Need Some Cat Advice

  Note: I’m writing this on my lunch break, so apologies in advance for a choppy/distracted feel.

  I’ve been hesitant to write about an issue that’s cropped up these last few weeks, primarily because I wanted it to be fixed before hauling it out into public. However, the more persistent the issue becomes, the less interested I am in writing a blog essay ending with a clean little dénouement, and the more interested I am in suggestions from my readers that might lead to an actual, real-life solution.

  The problem is my cat.

  Shaun and I have had Giles for nearly 8 years. When we first met him at the shelter, he was horrible, rancid, and hissing in his cage at everyone. But something about the near-human personality in his voice drew me closer to him. He made Shaun and I laugh.

   “What about him?” I asked the attendant.
  “You want to look at him?”

   We did. And I’m glad we did. From the moment he was out of his cage and given a few loving cuddles, Giles Alejandro Scimitar turned from screaming tomcat to a bonafide lover boy. He’s had his share of gross health issues (abscessed teeth make a cat smell like anchovies), but I take pride in our ability to be good pet owners. We’ve nursed him into a healthy, happy ten year old who pays us back in good humor and near-constant affection.

   

  Giles has moved a grand total of 5 times, including a 1-year stint staying with my best girlfriend while Shaun and I lived in Scotland. With us, he’s lived in a downtown studio apartment, a freezing cold Wicker Park pad, a spacious Ravenswood one-bedroom, a roach infested NYC building on 186^th, and our current comfy 2-bedroom on Chicago’s north side. He has adapted brilliantly to each new place, happy to sit on the window sill and soak it all in.

  

  We’ve also had a million and one changes in furnishings. We married young and started with zero. Over time, we built up our home with abandoned items left in alleyways. Eventually, we replaced our alley goodies with a combo of new and second hand furnishings. Giles is used to change. He keeps pace nicely.

  

  All of this is to say: Giles has never sprayed, peed, shit, or ruined anything we’ve ever owned. He’s never felt threatened by new environments or items. He’s never destroyed anything out of malice. Until now.

  We got all our baby items through Craigslist and garage sales, so the acquisition and change-over of the room from office to nursery was a gradual one. For months, our cat didn’t seem phased in the slightest by the new stuff. We’d bring the crib in and he’d just sniff it a bit and walk away.

  We read something somewhere that said we should start making the nursery “off limits” early on to get pets used to not having access to it. We started keeping the door shut for a few months, but Giles seemed confused by the closed space and suddenly overwhelmed when the door would open while we were working in there. We figured that it probably didn’t make sense to him that the area was off limits and decided that it would all make sense to him once the baby arrived. So we started keeping the door open again. This approach was going well for about a month, until a few weeks ago, when I was organizing the baby’s garage sale clothes.

  I noticed something strange on a pile of baby shoes that had been languishing on the floor. Dark, sticky, weird liquid was all over two little pairs of sneakers. I smelled it. Piss from hell.

  I threw the shoes away. Giles glared at me. I glared at him. We didn’t cuddle that day.

  A week passes with no incident until I go in the baby room to sweep while doing my chore rounds. And what is under the crib? A puddle. A pissy cat puddle. Shaun is commissioned to scrub the entire floor on hands and knees, searching for further pee-evidence. No new findings surface. We start saving for a vet appointment.

  Giles and I are not getting along. He seems surlier than usual. He howls at my stomach when I rub stretch mark prevention cream on it in the evenings. I tell him he is a crabby animal and throw him off the bed. I dream that he runs away and I wake up feeling relieved.

  A weekend passes. A garage sale car seat enters the home. Giles pisses in the base of it. I scrub it and scrub it and scrub it to get it smelling like normal again. I want to start closing the door to the nursery again, but fear that it will make the issue worse.  

  Shaun does extensive internet research. He finds that cats spray because they feel like someone new is coming into the home and they want to imbue their cat scent in with their owners scent in case the newcomer thinks they don’t belong there. This makes me mildly sympathetic towards the cat, but I am still seething deep down. Shaun has always had more patience than me. I try to channel it.

  Channeling is going well until damn cat pisses underneath the crib again yesterday morning, right before my very eyes. In fact, that bastardly cat met me at the bedroom door upon my waking and accepted cuddles from me before walking sassily into the nursery and pissing on the floor. Vet budgeting was nowhere near completed, but a same-day appointment was made that very morning. The credit card can take the $337 brunt for now. I needed answers. Especially since I now felt myself wanting to decapitate the animal I’ve always loved and considered a family member.  

  On Monday, we have to drop off a urine sample at the vet’s to see if Giles’ issue is medical. This needs to be ruled out before it is determined to be a behavioral issue. While the vet is not a behaviorist, she recommended that we keep Giles’ litter box extra clean. This is a chore that Shaun has inherited from me, since pregnant people aren’t supposed to go around cat shit (there’s a bacteria lurking in there that can be deadly to unlucky fetuses). I’m not sure if Giles just hates the way Shaun cleans it or what, but I do suspect that I was more vigilant and thorough than he is (I’m being generous here). The vet also gave us a spray that prevents some cats from going near an area. However, the spray could possibly have the opposite effect, so we are really hesitant to try it.

  When we got home, we did a bit more research and decided to try the following training steps:

  1.)    Shaun needs to keep that litter clean in the way I clean it. Daily scooping. Weekly litter overhaul, which includes tossing all the litter and washing out the actual box with water and mild soap. A bit of baking soda and a thorough vacuuming of entire cat area.

  2.)    Keep the nursery door open when we are home, but closed when we are out and at night. Hopefully, this will help Giles understand that the nursery is a “limited access area.” When we open the door to it and he rushes over, curious (as he does), we will take time to cuddle him in the nursery. We hope this cuddling will make him understand that he doesn’t need to feel threatened by the baby or her stuff.

  3.)    We need to invest in a crib net.

  4.)    We’ve already started keeping Giles out of the bedroom at night, since the baby will be in a bedside bassinet for her first month or so. However, to make sure he still knows he’s loved, we’ll take time out to snuggle him a little when the door opens in the morning.

  5.)    We played Giles some audio of a baby crying. His ears went back, flat against his furry little head. He was not pleased. We will try to play him this audio while reassuring him with petting and soothing words for a few minutes every couple of days until baby comes. This is supposed to get cats used to the sound, which is apparently a total freak fest to them.  

   That’s all we’ve got for now. This is a deal breaker for Giles if he doesn’t straighten up—if I perceive a threat to the baby, obviously the baby stays and the cat gets the boot. But I’d like it if we could all be one happy family. I am willing to work for this, within reason. (Reason being: I can not see myself having the physical or mental ability to clean up both human and cat piss simultaneously.)

   The vet provided us information for a recommended a pet behaviorist to look into once the test results are in. This is something worth investigating, but I don’t think we can afford to go that route. Money is always tight for us, but particularly now.

  If you have any suggestions or have dealt with something similar, please leave them in the comments. Thank you!

  EDIT:
  I should mention that Giles is nutered. I use the word “spray” but the pee is puddle pee. The vet suspects the sticky darker fluid in the shoes and car seat base were—get this—anal gland spray. Ewwwww! This is what nutered cats can spray when they are really pissed off or scared. The rest of the pissy stuff was just plain old puddle piss. And it only happens in the nursery. And he still usually uses his litter box most days.

  • 3:31 pm
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