It has been 5 weeks since Clove and I moved into our little house. I wasn’t sure how she would react; being only 18 months old, uprooting everything is something she’s never experienced. Besides being adopted by me that is.
Initially, she didn’t react how I’d expected. My confident little feline either hid aware or was attached to my leg like glue, never leaving my side. It took a good few days for her to get used to all this space. After all, she was used to only having 2 rooms to run around in, now she has a mini emperor to sprint around in. She has discovered how slippery wood flooring can be, often doing a cartoonish run on the spot before finding traction and darting off. It’s a rather funny sight, especially when she’s chasing a fly.
One of my main reasons for moving was so Clove could finally have regular access to the outdoors instead of having to rely on me taking her out in her little pink harness. It was good while she was a kitten but now she’s grown far too inquisitive and longs to go out for longer periods of time. Luckily, our house has a cat flap. It didn’t take her long to work out how to use it.
So a few days ago, in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of Clove crying hysterically. She sprinted upstairs and jumped on my bed. Worried that she might have injured herself, I grabbed my phone and shone the light on her. She was crouched funny, like she had caught something. Great. The hunting has begun… So I nudged her out of the way to see what present she had bestowed upon me only to discover a much worn, pretty disgusting, elastic band. By this point, Clove was purring her little heart out, overly impressed with her new-found hunting abilities.
Like anyone in the early hours of the morning, I put it out of her reach, fell back asleep and disposed of it in the morning.
A couple of days passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Then, on Friday afternoon, I had just set up our new sofa when I heard the cat flap go. Seconds later I hear continuous meows followed by my fluffy black kitty; with another elastic band in her mouth! She dropped it at my feet and proceeded to rub around my legs (annoying not at all interested in my new purchase), while purring profusely.
By this time, I’m in utter shock and confusion. What is her obsession with elastic bands? Where on earth is she even getting them from? And why is she bringing them to me?! Again, I disposed of it and continued about my day.
Fast forward to Monday. We’d had a good weekend, not an elastic band insight. Then, as I walk out my front door, my eye catches something. Something black, crossing the road. Clove. With, yep, you’ve guessed it, ANOTHER elastic band. Luckily, she dropped it as soon as she saw me but it didn’t stop her begging for attention and acknowledgement.
The next day, when I came home from work, I found another elastic band, torn up, on my bed. So, as you can see, my cat has an elastic band problem, addiction even. It’s a very peculiar, very unique addiction but at least it isn’t birds or mice. I have a feeling the postman is dropping them during his morning routine and Clove, being a good member of society, has taken it upon herself to rid the streets of his litter. Or perhaps she just thinks they are weird bouncy things that she’s never seen before. For whatever reason, It’s another trait to add to her expanding personality.