Jules “Underfoot” Verne, my new cat. The underfoot is a great description of her favourite place while I’m walking. Jules is often a nickname for Juliette, and since Warehouse 13 had a female HG Wells….
Poor Jules Verne, she’s had a hard life up to now. I am something of a cat whisperer, so I was able to figure out her short history.
From my Facebook page “I have figured out most of Jules’ back story. She is less than 6 months old, got pregnant in her first heat. She was dumped on the road near the barn 1-2 weeks ago. She had her litter but they were either stillborn or died soon after.
How did I know? She’s clearly a house cat. Litter trained, very friendly and ok with other cats. She’s skinny but not starved looking. She eats every scrap of cat food the second you put the dish down. So out on her own long enough to be seriously hungry but not quite starving. She’s deliriously happy to have found people. Definitely a tame cat who misses her home. If she was lost, she could track her way back.
It took 2 days for her dugs to fill with milk. So she’s not currently feeding kittens but was less than a week ago. She also shows zero desire to be outside. When my dad took my cat’s kittens away when I was a teenager, the cat destroyed the screen door trying to get to them.
Whoever dumped a pregnant teenage cat by the side of the road to fend for herself is deserving of the worst curse I know. May my Goddess give them everything they deserve.”
FYI; I am pledged to the Morrighan, a goddess of battle, death and rebirth. I hope they come back as helpless females.
These same *unsubs taught her two very bad habits; jumping on the counter, and begging for food off my plate. I won’t stand for these, any cat I’ve had from 6-8 weeks old never does either of these. So, we started training the first day. Nothing rough, but a strong NO in my best “mom voice”, and a firm shove off of my lap. I hope it doesn’t escalate to the spray bottle.
She seems pretty smart, leaped off of the counter at my first NO. But snuck back into the kitchen and stole the fatty back of the ham we had. Sigh, her eyes were bigger than her stomach, she left a greasy mess all over the floor. Yeti knew better, he just stayed far away from the kitchen until it was cleaned.
One good thing, I’ll need to be sure to put everything away right away now. My kitchen will be so clean! I’m hoping she’s a good mouser, Yeti is too lazy to do more that stare at the little buggers. I may have to teach her a bit though, I tried a squeaky mouse and a ball, both times she just stared at me.
She’s got a very sweet and affectionate nature, and they’re barely hissing at each other any more, it seems more habit than actual enmity. She loves to be up high, her current fave place is on top of the video camera case, piled on top of a table in my office. From this high (3ft) ledge she surveys her queendom. And sleeps. A lot.
She does 3 things a lot; sleep, eat and poop. I can’t wait until the chemical warfare part of the cats juggling for supremacy is over, and they both go back to covering their poop. I seem to be scooping every 20 minutes.
Speaking of which, I must go…
*unknown subjects, from FBI profilers manual