(no subject)

I can handle Kieran's health problems. I can handle his tendency to eat too fast and throw up. I can put certain things out of his reach, like the paper towels he mistook for a scratching post (shouldn't two real ones be enough?). I'm getting better at blocking him from my food (I don't even eat meat).

But my patience is wearing thin, especially after getting probably less than two hours of sleep last night. I still find it cute when Kieran crawls under the covers and rests with his head out like a human, even as he limits my space, but I only wish that were the worst. Most of the time, he seemed to be whining because I had the blinds down to go to sleep. His plaintive squeaks used to break my heart, but I've heard hundreds of them by now. It was his noisy efforts to get the blinds out of the way that led me to open each, one by one, ending with the one he can barely even reach. All this did nothing to ease his whining or his cursory patrol of each window, one of which requires him to jump to and from my bed.

This was all similar to his behavior two nights ago, tho that didn't seem to last more than an hour. I'm not sure why, on alternating nights, he was more content to either play with a "toy" I left him (like a paper bag) or settle down and be quiet.

If the light, noise, and mattress shifts weren't enough, accidentally knocking my alarm clock and other items off my bedside table was.

My basement suite is divided into a main room (combination living room, bedroom, and kitchen), a bathroom, and an adjoining storage room. After the aforementioned crash, Kieran ran to the bathroom and I gladly closed the door behind him. It then occurred to me that he had nothing to scratch or play with besides the toilet paper, so I pushed in one of the scratching posts and a yarn ball. For the next three hours, it was relatively quiet, tho sometimes punctuated by barely muffled meows and desperate efforts to open the door. I started to fear that he would leave enough damage for my landlady to notice. After three hours, as he still periodically protested, I realized that my laundry was the only soft surface in those two rooms and he had no water (as I keep the lid down on the toilet). I took pity and let him out.

Kieran didn't show anger. He's rather a sweetie. But he spent the rest of the night behaving exactly as before. All I could do was be more tolerant and keep a hand on my clock when he got too close.

Millie was easier to deal with, because the whole house was ours and we slept on the second floor with her closed in the basement during her pouncy kittenhood and whiny elderhood. I can't let Kieran into any other part of the house, especially since my landlady is allergic to cats.

If this pattern is still in place after another week, I fully intend to return Kieran to his previous owner and help reach out for a new one. What the sociable ex-stray apparently needs is more living space and more humans, or at least a human with more free time, to lavish attention on him. What he apparently wants is to hunt outside again, but that would be both dangerous and a breach of contract.

My best hope at the moment is to give him a lot of exercise late in the day with a laser pointer. I'll be sure to buy one tonight.