Pye.

Pye, Pye, Pye. *shaking my head*

Is it Karma that sent me a Devil Cat? Is there no way to appease the Gods?

I love my furry monster-child, but Pye needs a hobby. She’s bored, perhaps more so because I’ve been home and she is now awake more than usual. Normally, when I’m gone during the day, she sleeps. When I’m gone for a night or two, she goes on an eating strike and hides when her friendly, animal-loving sitter comes over. And she messes up stuff around the RV. (Or pees on my bed three times after I come back from a trip, like she did when I went to Oklahoma for Christmas.)

But when I’m home, like I have been since my surgery, she is awake and demands constant entertainment and attention. Or she’ll start wrecking stuff.

Pye debating whether to play with the keyboard – again, or push the books off the table – again.

I can’t sit at my computer table without her trying to “assist” by pushing my papers off the table, or stepping on the keyboard. She relocates all pens to goodness knows where. And if neither of those two things produce the desired response from me? She starts in on the curtains and blinds.

She is not much of a lap cat. It would be great if she could sit with me while I’m on the computer. But no.

She has only recently, after living with me for two and a half years (bright, she is not… it’s a good thing she’s cute), discovered my potted plants. Most normal cats eat potted plants. But we all know Pye isn’t normal, so what do you think she does with them? No, thank goodness it’s not using them as a bathroom! She digs in them, as if she thinks she’s a dog. She digs the dirt out, getting it all over the floor or counter.

And she recently discovered the toilet paper roll. Yeah, that’s fun. For her. For me? All I can wonder as I roll the toilet paper back on to the roll is how her dirty kitty feet have touched the once sanitary toilet paper, the once sanitary toilet paper that goes on my nice sanitary lady bits. Thankfully, the hospital sent me home with a lifetime supply of personal wipes. They must’ve known I had a cat.

Undoubtedly a relative of Pye’s.

As I type this, she is seated behind me on the couch back, eating my hair. Or grooming it. It’s hard to tell. Surgery, plus two weeks at home without exercise, and not bothering to fix my hair or apply makeup might account for her sudden desire to groom me.

However, she is used to grooming her own very short fur. What ends up happening is she gets few of my long strands stuck in her mouth so she starts to eat them.

Yeah. It’s real funny – as long as it’s not happening to you.

And she loves to play with the water in her bowl. Yes, we are talking about a standard domestic shorthaired cat, and not one of those fancy Turkish kitties that likes to take baths. But Pye should’ve been Turkish because she doesn’t mind getting wet. She loves to stick her paw in her water dish. Or my cup of tea. Yeah, that’s icky.

And that’s why we can’t have nice things. Pye will shred, eat, or pee on them.

Pye’s third birthday is a couple weeks away and I’d really like to get her a hobby. A hobby that doesn’t involve destroying my stuff. I have considered getting her a pet fish. No, seriously. A small fishbowl with a little goldfish or something similar to amuse her. The fishbowl would need to have a cat-proof lid, or she’d play in the water, of course. I know she won’t eat the fish because of what happened the time I got her a minnow to eat. The minnow was never in danger of being eaten by Pye.