How to put this delicately . . . Micro Scaredy the 9-month old feral kitten?? She’s kind of an asshole.
All the other feral cats have always intuitively understood: You don’t wake me up for breakfast until dawn, until it starts getting light. As famously as cats are for their lack of patience, they’ve always accepted that the light of day is the defining line for their breakfast schedule. And they don’t start pestering me to be fed until then. . . Occassionally, if a cat hasn’t been fed for 3 or 4 days, they’ll wake me up at four in the morning, crying for food. And I’ll get up and fix them a late-night snack. But generally they wait until daylight before they start pestering me.
But not Micro Scaredy. Nooo. She did it again last night waking me up in the middle of the night with her meowing. And she kept jabbing at my face with her claws. Not hard enough to draw blood. But just hard enough to let me know she MIGHT. I kept turning over from side to side to avoid her jabs. But she’d just trot over to the other side and continue her assault from that angle. And when I tried hiding completely under my blankets she’d start pouncing on my head. And the funny thing is, the whole time she’s harassing me, she’s purring as loud as she can. She’s obviously enjoying the hell out of the whole exercise. It’s like a fun cat-and-mouse game to her. With me as the mouse.
So finally I resigned myself to the inevitable and got up and fixed her a can of cat food.
In truth I don’t really mind. I actually LIKE seeing my feral cats being aggressive and assertive. I’m like the proud father in the song “A Boy Named Sue.” I know these traits will help them survive if anything ever happens to me.
But man, what an asshole. Ha ha. But then, at least she’s MY asshole.