Little Miss Ivy is on a fearless tear this morning. She jumped up on the trash can next to the blue hutch in my dining room. I could tell she had her eye on my mini pumpkins.
I could see in my mind’s eye her jumping up to grab one and my white dishes crashing to the floor. So I grabbed the water bottle. I sprayed her once right in the face.
She just stared at me. Didn’t even flinch. I sprayed her twice more. Nothing. So Ivy isn’t afraid of water being sprayed in her face. Actually she seemed to enjoy it.
When I could get my coffee and sit down at the computer I looked to make sure that today wasn’t Friday the 13th instead of the 12th.
It wasn’t. Ivy was just on a tear.
When Ivy is staring at something with this intensity you know something is probably about to happen. That it will be quick and things may fall.
When I reached for my clothes in the closet after I got up, I went to fix myself a bowl of cereal and could hear her meowing.
I walked all over searching for her. First place I looked was that closet. The one I took over so Ivy could have the other one.
I opened the door. Didn’t see her. Went on about my business.
I heard the plaintive meowing again. Looked all over. Opened the closet again. No Ivy.
I started making my cup of coffee. Heard it again. Went into the closet and she was hiding behind the door. She came bounding out like a lion freed from a cage. I guess she was just messing with me the first two times.
Here is Charlie after a bath yesterday afternoon.
When Charlie sees you coming with a towel, he just collapses to the floor, legs splayed out behind him. In total surrender.
Ivy, I’m beginning to see, is the polar opposite.
She is all kitten, all of the time.
Charlie is starting to look a bit scruffy. He has a date with Kim the groomer on Monday.
I’ve found that I can get Ivy’s attention (sometimes) by taking a 12 inch ruler and rapping it against something. Unfortunately the only one it scares is Charlie, who cowers next to me and shakes.
Then Ivy decided to jump up on the end table next to where I work on the couch. She was hellbent on finding something.
I reached over to grab what I didn’t want her to have and knocked my camera to the floor. I held my breath when I picked it up. I just got it paid off last month.
Luckily there was just about an inch and a half broken off the zoom lens lip. I counted myself very lucky.
Last time I got such a scare was when I grabbed the camera instead of steadying myself and broke both sides of my ankle. That was 6 years ago. I’m very careful with my camera.
Except when I’m trying to beat Ivy to whatever she has her eye focused on.
When Ivy is on a tear, she gets this slightly demented look that I call “kitten face.” Because kittens are endlessly curious and fascinated by the simplest of things.
Then when she’s sleeping, as she is now at the other end of the couch on the dog bed, she looks so innocent. Charlie is squeezed on the other side of me where he backs himself in. He feels safe there.
I wonder what Ivy is dreaming about?
Big crickets hopping across the floor? Toilet paper I forgot to wrap tight? Dust bunnies under furniture?
Such is life with a kitten. It is uproariously funny. Sometimes fear when you see her bat at something breakable and it is teetering. And there is of course uncertainty.
You don’t know what will happen next. What she’ll take an interest in. What she’ll be staring at with those big eyes of hers that I don’t see at all.
You don’t know if she’ll jump on the rolling desk chair and send it and her careening across the floor. Or if she’ll jump up the side of the bed near your face and scare you half to death.
Ivy joined our family a week ago today. And I can tell you what there isn’t is a dull moment.
Note: Thank you so much, Melanie, for sending Ivy the scratching post!