Guest Blogger: Susan Gottfried
“Little girl, where is your OFF switch?”
It’s not a question I often ask my foster kittens. In fact, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever asked a kitten where its OFF switch is. Truly, I don’t think they have them, although in Nikki’s case, I sometimes wish she did. You know, like when she’s trying to turn my sleeve into a chew toy. Or when she decides to lunge for my hair. All typical kitten behaviors and, in most cases, easily taught that this is undesirable behavior.
But Nikki’s not a typical kitten. She’s a hoot and a trip and a lot of fun and a dear and a doll, all rolled into one. She’s also a thief – a thief of your heart.
You’ve been warned.
I’ve never met a kitten more people-centric. In fact, it is her love of humans that sent her to my house in the first place. I got a call: “Every time one of the staff walks past her, she sticks her paws out and mews at us. It’s pathetic. Please. Take her home!”
I laughed, figuring she had simply been smart enough to recognize the shelter workers as the people with the power to take her home. But… no. This girl loves humans. On a few—very few—occasions over the past month, she’s slept on me. She purrs as soon as you pick her up, or as soon as I let her out of the foster room in the mornings. I don’t let all my fosters out, but Nikki made it clear from the first time I walked in and she walked out that one room wasn’t enough to contain her. We compromised by keeping her in for two weeks, time for her to grow big and strong and ready to meet Milo and Lucy, my permanent cats.
I’m not sure my house is, either. She spends her time racing at top speed around the house, often chasing Milo and Lucy. They’ve figured out where she can’t jump, and those are the “I’ve had enough” spots. Lately, my office has been on that list because as I’ve been trying to work, Nikki has taken to rolling through the nest of cords on the floor. Today, she managed to jump right on my surge protector so perfectly, she flipped it off. My computer was plugged in to that protector. You can figure out what happened. Personally, I’m still trying to figure out if I should laugh or cry. (Thankfully, I am a compulsive saver—a habit brought on by a preschooler who used to demand my attention by flipping the power switch on the computer itself.)
It’s like living with the Tazmanian Devil from the Looney Tunes cartoons, only Nikki is black with a white splotch on her chest. I truly am not sure this kitten sleeps.
I’m taking her back in a few days; she’s big enough now to find her forever home. Whoever takes a chance on this baby in constant motion is in for a lot of fun. She simply can’t get enough of the humans around her (and she loves other cats, too). And I bet that whoever takes her home will find they can’t get enough of her, either.
But if they find her OFF switch, I hope they let me know where it was hiding.