Biting is Bad

Sometimes I feel like an evil god.

Let me explain.

You know how some misguided people have this warped view of God as an old meanie who is sitting up in heaven, waiting until you do something wrong so he can zap you with lightning? Well, if I was God, I think that's what I'd be like. Except instead of bolts of lightning, it would be water. Case in point: Stan. He goes into biting mode or scratching mode and I reach for the spray bottle. He hasn't actually bitten me yet ( at least not today), but I know he wants to- he's GOING TO- so I sit poised, the bottle in my hand, my finger on the spray trigger...just waiting...and in fact, HOPING, that he will try to bite me, so I can teach him a lesson. Those of you who are seasoned cat owners are probably rolling your eyes, thinking I'm way too uptight, and scarily vengeful, and what a lot I have to learn. Well, he has to be trained sometime!

It's a good thing I'm NOT God, eh?

The problem is, what I think of as "biting," is merely harmless, jolly gnawing to Brad. Last night, he was sitting at the computer, holding Stan ( a feat in and of itself as he is wont to climb on the keyboard- Stan, not Brad) and his fingers were in Stan's mouth! I grabbed the spray bottle and gave a hearty blast, but at the last second, Brad's arm moved in the way and the next thing I know he's looking at me with a bewildered face, saying, "Why did you just spray me?" We NEED to be a united front! What is not acceptable to one parent must be unacceptable to the other! I guess we need to talk about the definition of "biting." I guess that's the difference between the seasoned pet owner and the first time pet owner.

Peter Marshall

Here's a quote I like from Peter Marshall:

" It is a far, far better thing in the realms of morals to be old fashioned than to be ultramodern. The world has enough women who know how to be brilliant. It needs some who will be brave. The world has enough women who are popular. It needs more who are pure. We need women, and men too, who would rather be morally right than socially correct."

In the first line, he said " in the realms of morals," but I think you could substitute the word "standards" or "worldview" there as well. The world has enough people who are going with the flow. It needs some who are willing to stand out and be different. And I'm not necessarily talking about a "cool" kind of different - but perhaps a kind of "different" that people may not understand or appreciate at all. Not different for the sake of being different- there's quite enough of that and there is little or no virtue in arbitrary strangeness- but because it's what God has asked of you - it's what you were meant to be.

Anyway...

Stan of Green Gables

Life with a kitten is interesting. Never having had a pet of my own before, this is all new ground for me.

Stan seems to think that we are his personal climbing walls. And he sees my feet as independent creatures that he needs to attack. He sees his reflection in the exterior of the dishwasher and the oven door, and just about goes crazy trying to get at the kitten he sees. I'm afraid that I can see an Anne of Green Gables complex developing within him. ( ANNE: The only real friend I ever had was Katie Morris, and she was only my window friend. MARILLA: Window friend? ANNE: I discovered her in the window of Mrs. Thomas' bookcase, which was the only window which hadn't been smashed by her intoxicated husband. I lived with them before the Hammonds. I used to wish I knew the spell to step through the glass into Katie's world, which was so beautiful.)

( Just to clarify: my husband is not in the habit of being intoxicated.)

Stan can be VERY loud. We shut him in the laundry room at night or when we go out, so he doesn't have accidents in the rest of the house, or scratch things to ribbons. ( This is just a temporary thing, until we know that he is house-trained...) And if we had gotten a parrot, he could not be a louder screamer than this kitten. We can hear him crying all the way upstairs at the opposite end of the house. Not that our house is mansion sized by any means, but I was quite impressed with the way his voice can carry. He certainly knows how to tug at the old heart strings.

Brad had forgotten how much he is allergic to cats. We are still not sure what we are going to do...I'm afraid that Stanley is like Anne Shirley in more ways than one; right now, he is here "on trial." I am so amazed at how strongly I want to keep him. I never thought my heart could be captured so quickly by an animal; when he settles down in my lap and starts purring, I pretty much melt. Let's just hope he can last the week without any major catastrophes, like dying his hair green, insulting visitors, or losing any of my keepsakes from past tragic romances.

Maybe we should spell his name with an 'e' at the end. "Stanne." Hmmmm....