Today’s post comes from Crystalbay.
Tonight, I lost the battle. I’m defeated. I give up. For one month, I’ve kept my two kittens blockaded in the bedroom. I have a big door on one side; no door on the other. Because I felt they should only be kept in one room for a while, I moved a big bench to close off the opening without a door and nailed in a throw a few inches higher than the bench to fool them into thinking there was no way out.
This worked for a while, then “Trouble” found a way over it, so I nailed the blanket half a foot higher. That worked for a while until tonight when I nailed the blanket up so high that only one foot was still exposed. Trouble climbed over it in seconds, even though I repeatedly squirted him with a water bottle. He’d dart off, then return to finish his task of penetrating the barrier to full freedom in seconds. He didn’t care that I yelled “NO” or that I’d pick him up and toss him back in the room or that I squirted him. He had no respect or fear at all.
That’s it: they’re both on the loose, terrorizing my old cat upstairs and doing anything that their feline instincts lead them to. I’m defeated. The vet was right about this male Ragdoll and now I’m under their control. Poor old Izzy, whose world was upended a few weeks ago. In just one week, she lost her only friend, Peanut, then was scared into the dungeon below the cottage for days. A few days later, I brought the kittens home, so she lost having me in the bedroom she’d always come into for affection. She spotted the kittens for the first time only two days ago, and spent hours hiding in the bedroom upstairs. Her only comfort in life has been having me, out of guilt, going upstairs to sleep with her every night after the kittens were safely closed in the downstairs bedroom. Now, she’s lost even that.
Now, Trouble, followed by his copycat sister, has claimed the entire cottage as his territory. I’m struggling right now with feeling owned rather than owning these pesky fur balls.
What is the best way to turn defeat into something postive? When have animals or people got the best of you?
Trail Baboon 
What squirt bottle are you using? We have the squirt bottles that they sell at the hardware store – they have a pretty good squirt and neither Nimue (our devil cat) nor Guinevere (the devil dog) likes them at all.
Vigilance is the watch word at hour house because our old cat, Zorro, is not happy to be bothered by the younger inhabitants of the house.
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Our little tuxedo cat terror is pretty sure she runs the house. The old blind dog mostly ignores her. I think if she would quit trying to use him as a cat toy and just snuggle up for a nap with him they would get along famously. She is also a cat who is water-spraying resistant (or at least doesn’t mind being quite wet) – though she doesn’t like the sound of pennies being shaken in an old yogurt tub. A quick shake of that gets her to stop in her tracks.
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I’m glad we’re going to continue to see how the kittens are progressing, CB – they may be endless blog material!
What is the best way to turn defeat into something positive? – Sometimes if I have time to slow down and settle, I can look at the situation in a different light and find something positive. Getting out of town for a day helps, because I see things from a slightly different angle upon returning.
Thinking about the second question…
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Today will be the first day all three fur persons are shut in the cottage due to the cold weather. The way I look at it, Izzy has two choices; spend 24 hours under the bed upstairs or come down and face her sad fate. She’s had sever weeks now to adjust to these little intruders; the rest is up to her.
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Here we are, almost 12 hours later, how did it go?
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Our adolescent cat is now starting to treat the new kitten as a playmate instead of an intruder. They vet tech who was fostering our kitten was worried we would be put off by her because of her tortitude. Hah! As the owners of three terriers over the last 28 years, tortitude is nothing compared to the wiles if the terrier brain. There is vey little one can do to keep a terrier from doing what it wants.
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I’ve probably mentioned my friend John who lives in Texas with a Jack Russel Terrorist.
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As a younger man I was silly enough to assume a human could control a pet, given some technology and planning. Experience has humbled me. I recently mentioned the first cat my erstwife and I had, Pippin. Pippin went through a five-year phase that I called his Bobcat From Hell Years. Readers of this site wouldn’t believe most of the stories I could tell about this.
Pippin took to circling our tiny apartment at supersonic speeds, leaping occasionally to seize a doorway that he shinnied up before leaping to the floor and resuming his circles. His claws raked long slices in both sides of the doorway, ripping the multiple layers of wallpaper into long ribbons.
I beat him, though. I fixed 16 cocked mousetraps to the wall around the doorway, using a loop of tape to hold each one in place. I was less smug about my small victory when I realized having 16 mousetraps on the wall was infinitely uglier than the walls after Pippin had clawed them.
When I finally made good on my threats to take him to be “tutored” by the vet, Pippin remained the Bobcat From Hell. But when we expanded our family to include two boisterous hunting dogs, Pippin shocked us by suddenly becoming a dignified gentleman cat.
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Show we ask for contributions about ex spouses that didn’t fit the bill?
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Well, it says “animals or people”…
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Treble sounds right, my nickname in sixth grade.
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I think it’s really obvious CB that the correct decision is to get rid of your new cats
naming trouble is kind of the final tip off as to how you feel about your new inheritance
if I told you I was going to drive you crazy ruin your life raise havoc everywhere I go and claim all territory that you live in how much would you charge me for that infringement on your life? All you have to do is give up your freedom your peace of mind your home your state of well-being and you can enjoy everything that’s left
admit it CB there beautiful cats but they don’t belong in your life get rid of them
tim jones
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I think that their benefits are even greater than their problems.
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Here’s a little tip for improving your pet trainer skills, even when working with a contrarian pet. Order your animal to do something it is just about to do for its own reasons. “Come on, Marley, eat this chunk of hot dog!” Then come back with, “Oh, what a GOOD boy! Here, eat this other piece of hot dog!” This always works.
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For cats? I have my doubts.
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Works for cats too. You just gotta learn to predict ’em.
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Oh, that’s easy! 🙂
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Oh my, that is too funny. This is one reason why I don’t have pets, besides the fact I tell my kids and everyone that I’m allergic — which was and probably still is true.
As far as turning defeat into positive, well — if I don’t laugh at stuff, I’d probably cry. So it’s best to just find some kind of silver lining or humor, no matter how small.
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Call me confused, but I can’t for the life of me think of a reason why you would keep your kittens confined to your bedroom while you’re at home? Surely they’d want to be with you, and, I would think, you’d want them to be with you, as well? What were you hoping to accomplish by having them blockaded in your bedroom? I wouldn’t be surprised if now that they have claimed the run of the house that you’ll find them much more agreeable housemates. Good luck, they are certainly beautiful cats to look at. Hope this works out for all of you.
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I’m really surprised that that barricade worked at all for more than ten minutes or so.
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Terriers create their own fun. Our first Welsh terrier delighted in waiting for our son’s bath time when he was a toddler, and would creep silently into the bathroom, grab one of son’s little socks, and swallow it whole. It would stay in her gut for a week or two, and then she would puke it up. She loved to steal things. I am surprised nothing she stole and swallowed got stuck in her gut.
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Oh man, a sock eating dog. Don’t think I’ve ever had one of them.
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You have to wonder… WHY?
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It was the thrill of thievery.
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Say that like Daffy Duck!
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I have a cat who is a sock thief, but she has never swallowed one.
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Saw a photo on Facebook the other day of a collection of men’s briefs and assorted socks laid out on a blanket. The person who had posted the photo had also posted a note explaining that his (or her) cat had been stealing these items and bringing them home. The underwear looked like it all came from the same place, same style and patterns. The note ended by saying,” If this is your stuff, please message me, and I’m sorry.” Obviously, I don’t believe everything I see on FB, but I thought this was funny – whether or not it was true.
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I must confess that if the puked up socks were in one piece, I would wash them and put them in the sock drawer. They were a little faded by gastric juices but were quite serviceable.
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At our house, nothing ever survives the gastrointestinal system. The most “brought back” items these days are sponges. If you leave them in the sink (instead of putting them up near the faucet) they are fair game for my Irish Setter.
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