Jun 13 2010
Prisoner of Love
Poor Audrey. In the short space of a week, she’s gone from having a fun, cool mom like Lorelai Gilmore to having a freaky, overprotective one like Mrs. Bates of the famous motel.
If I haven’t seen her for ten minutes, I’m calling her and looking for her anxiously. Unlike her sister, she never deigns to respond, even if she’s two feet away, and when I find her, she always looks at me as if to say, “What now?”
Unfortunately for her, winning the cat version of “Survivor: Hooterville” means that I’ve been locking her in at night. As soon as darkness falls, I lure her in with treats and then slam the prison doors until dawn. She doesn’t even get reading materials to while away the long hours.
The Alcatraz treatment was slightly hampered at first by the fact that the balcony cat door has fallen out and I keep forgetting to ask Rob to repair it, leaving an empty space where the glass should be. I solved this problem temporarily by putting a stereo speaker in front of it at night.
Yes, Audrey does claw the door a couple of times a night, but it’s better than freaking out about her if she’s out and about in the dark. It doesn’t completely eliminate the freak out, either. I couldn’t find her when I woke up at 4:30 on the first morning, and looked all over the place, calling her. Even though I knew all the doors were closed, I was convinced she’d found some secret way out.
Eventually, I found her sitting in front of the heater, staring as if waiting for a mouse to emerge. Then she started chasing something all over the house, just as I had chased her.
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