I am thinking about buying a holster. No, not for a gun, for a squirt bottle. It is time to take down a rogue kitty.
When we got Olive I think both Ryan and I knew it was a risky decision. She just had that look in her eye: crazy, and not just normal crazy, but grab a cop's gun crazy. However, Ryan was worried about me after Rita's death, and I was brought up to believe that any animal who picked you was meant to be with you. Oh, how delusional we were.
Don't get me wrong, Olive is a darling cat. She is affectionate, and playful, eats whatever is put in front of her, and loves everyone in the house, and loves living here. Actually, she loves it a little too much. She loves it so much she acts like she owns the place. The spray bottle is to convince her she doesn't.
I don't think it would be so bad if we could pick our battles. The problem is, Ryan and I have different battles. He doesn't want her on the counters. I don't care about the counters, I have Lysol to take care of the counters. I don't want her sleeping on my shoulder, and pawing at my face. Ryan doesn't care about that, because he sleeps like the dead. We both don't want her in Meg's crib, but Meg actually likes her in there, and will call to her.
No wonder the cat is so crazy. We are fighting all of the battles, and so she is getting sprayed all the time. Really, I am surprised she ever dries.
I guess she'll just have to deal with it. After all, there is a new Sheriff in town.