Less Smart Cat

I, like all spinsters, have two cats. Actually, most spinsters have 19 cats, but whatever.

The older of the two, Layla, I got after hurricane Katrina. She's a sweet cat, if a little anxious and senile at this point in her life (she is 14! that is like 100 something in cat years!) She is my favorite, but her generally calm and cautious nature makes her poor blog fodder.

The other cat, Sylvie, I have had for three years. She is...special.

This is her in the bathtub. She spends a lot of time there. She continues to spend time there, even after jumping in when it was full of water, and completely wiping out.

This is her stuck in between the window and the screen. One of the basic housecat skills she lacks is detaching her claws. This happened approximately 3 times a week until I gave up and stopped opening windows.

Despite my best attempts, she has failed to learn the following associations
1) get on the table=sprayed with water
2) get on the counter=sprayed with water
3) get on stove=sprayed with water+yelling
4) step on red burners on the stove=hot feet (this has happened three times. THREE TIMES. She' quick, though, so no serious injury)
5) jump onto stove without looking and into a pan of oil=hot feet
6) Sniffing tea kettle=steam in face
7) Getting on stove and sticking paws into pots=hot paws, yelling, sprayed with water


The one thing she has managed to learn, quite well, is how to turn on my bedroom light. She very clearly understands that hitting the switch with her head=light on=playtime. She does this usually around 2 AM, and it is definitely NOT playtime, but she is so proud of herself and chirpy and happy. I feel a little guilty for moving stuff around so she can't hit the switch-it's her only accomplishment, ever. But not that guilty.

Despite her (many) deficiencies, she's a world-class snuggler, and highly thermogenic (which comes in handy in the New England Winter. For now, I'l let her stay.