How to train a human by Freckles, Kitten
My name is Freckles and I’m the newest member of the Sisk household. Shortly after that previous insulting post by the human, my brother Goldie went back to our first home. Blah, blah, blah everyone thought he’d be happier there and I hear he is. Good. That left the field open for me.
You see, I very cleverly made her want me to come inside. She thought I’d be happy outside. You know, where there are bugs and rain and food shared with possums. Never mind, I had a nice house and three meals a day. It was outside!
Now I have long fur and a gorgeous black tail that I’m going to grow into. I needed to be inside, so I let her get comfortable with me coming when called (if I could roll my eyes, I would) and looking at her longingly as she doled out the food. And then, about 10 days ago, she took the bait and was standing in the doorway with both the screen door and the back door open, and in I waltzed. She was thrilled! (How easy was that?) And I’ve not been back out.
Of course, I had to make her hunt me. I hid for a day or two, only coming when called and then crying piteously. I made Freckles-sightings into something special. I made my inside brothers, those old cats Oscar and Whiskers, fuss at me. I kept her up one night, almost all night, by crying and then running when she’d try to pick me up. If I jumped on the bed, I made sure to knock her glasses off the nightstand. The more fuss I made, the more determined she was that I would be a good house cat.
Good, of course, is relative. I now have her trained to feed me at least two bowls of food morning and night and one at lunch. She’ll sit still long enough for me to climb in her lap and knead my sharp claws into her jeans. (I’ve heard the word ‘clippers’ but I’m not worried yet. Should I be?) The next step is to cosy up while she’s sleeping, but those other two seem to have a monopoly on who sleeps where. I won’t give up.
I was born to be a house cat, one with soft fur and a loud purr. Hear me roar!