Guilty Pleasures

We had several conversations about kitties in our house today.  Not only do we have three cats of our own (as well as two Boston Terriers who think they’re cats), but our youngest son and his fiancé have two adolescent purr-pusses as well. And they are visiting for the holidays, so we are a ‘full house,’ so to speak!

One of our cats, Tigger, has a guilty pleasure that we simply can’t abide. Not that it’s gross or disgusting. No. But it poses a danger to him if we’re not careful.

He’s into ribbons. Specifically, the thin, dangly kind that adorn festive holiday gifts and – if he’s really lucky – have little bells attached.

You have to understand. Tigger’s a really laid back cat. He rarely gets bent out of shape about anything. He’s very quiet – unflappable, even. When he first arrived in our home, he was already a grown cat (his paperwork said he was 8 or 9 years old, I believe), and he was entering a household that already had an established pecking order.

Tigger was quite clearly at the bottom of that order. Indeed, he was so far on the bottom of the pecking order that he pretty much retreated under a bed in our son Sage’s room and refused to come out.

We were concerned that he might just waste away. For at least the first week that he lived with us, we only saw his tail as he bolted back under the bed. We’d occasionally hear growling and hissing, and that was a ‘tell’ that White Satan, aka Gandalf the White (the deaf all-white terror), had cornered Tigger under the bed and was teaching him who was alpha-puss. It was hard to break those fracases up, since Gandalf was deaf. So we couldn’t even yell at him to stop.

Call Me By My Name

When I saw Tigger’s adoption paperwork and realized we’d been calling him by the wrong name, everything changed. It was astonishing and immediate. His entire demeanor shifted and it was as if he heaved a huge sigh of relief. “You finally know who I am!” he seemed to be saying.

Overnight, his personality shifted. He started coming out from under the bed. He started purring.

And then I caught him. I heard scrambling noises and the tinkling of a bell somewhere in the kitchen and I didn’t know what it was. I looked under the table and only saw Tigger, blinking up at me, all innocent.

I turned away and heard it again.

His Wild Side Comes Out

And then I saw it. The ribbon dangling from his mouth. The furtive look in his eye.

His guilty pleasure. Perhaps a self-soothing activity? Or maybe a celebratory indulgence.

Whatever it was, he clearly was still in touch with his inner kitten – and it is adorable.

We try to keep all ribbons picked up so he can’t swallow them in over-indulgence. But every now and then, I let him play with them and act all “Tigger Gone Wild.”

Tonight was one of those nights. We all need to indulge in guilty pleasures now and again. Just stay safe. ; )

(T-1064)