Thursday, April 07, 2011

THIS is Why You Have a Curfew

This is Bamboo.

You may remember her from the last time I discussed her, that is the time we all pointed and laughed because she had gotten herself injured and had to go to the vet and wear a cone.

Despite that episode, she still liked to go outside; we discovered another sore near her tail just days after she had healed up and we had removed the cone. Three days later that sore, now infected, exploded all over me, and she spent a miserable couple of hours first in the tub and then on my lap, bleeding all the while. Another trip to the vet (where, when being shaved, another pocket of infection burst), another several days of cone-wearing, and now, NOW it seemed that she had had her fill of the great outdoors.

Then she was in heat for the first time in her young life.

Cats in heat become significantly more annoying than normal cats. They follow around males of any species (my boyfriend, my father, and my brother's dog are lavished with extra attention) and are always either writhing around suggestively or "assuming the position" (an all-purpose phrase in my house) in hopes someone will take pity on them and sex them up good. Bamboo had the extra fun of taking to heat like a Siamese.

Yes, she yowls. Not nearly as constantly as most Siamese do, but pretty frequently. Oh and also her being in heat had rekindled her interest in the outside world. Apparently the possibility of getting beat up was nothing compared to the possibility of finding a tom. And she knew tricks. She finally evaded us last night, hiding in wait in the dark immediately next to the front door. We ran outside to try to catch her, but she was over the fence and away.

We checked for her two or three times before we all went to bed, but she wasn't waiting by the doors (what she usually does after only an hour of being outside) and she didn't answer our call. In the morning we checked again several more times, but she didn't show.

I was down in my room at about eleven a.m. when the door was pushed open and little Bamboo wandered in. I cried out her name in relief, but she didn't even glance at me. This reminded me to get down to scolding mode. "And what time of day do you call this to be returning home?" I asked. She sniffed at the food in her food dish and glanced at the water. "Well?" I said. She continued to ignore me, jumping from my bed to the windowsill to Lissi's bed, where she collapsed in a heap. I muttered dark mutterings as I checked her tail end for new wounds, but there weren't any. "You're lucky," I said. She didn't respond. "I hope your hangover teaches you a lesson." She flicked her tail in annoyance, and I left her alone.

I came back to check on her in the late afternoon, and found that she had sufficiently recovered to be interested in food and water. She wasn't completely better, though; she still had a headache.

She was also not at all amused by me taking pictures of her. She confiscated my camera and glared at me until she fell asleep.

Update: Bamboo attempted another escape despite obviously not being cut out for the night life. Luckily mom managed to catch her. She has been grounded until further notice and is currently sulking up on Lissi's bed.

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