Opie is over a year old now. He seems to have settled down a bit. Although, I have to put him out of the bedroom almost every night. Sometimes he settles in next to me in bed while I'm reading. I'll turn out the light and we go to sleep, but by 2:30AM, sometimes earlier, his nap is over and he wakes me up with his mooching around.

However, putting him out of the bedroom gives him an excuse to take revenge. How many mornings have I opened my bedroom door to view the spiteful devastation. The other morning was really the limit. He yanked the cloth-like cover off the bottom door of my entertainment center, leaving a large, gaping hole in the door. My old bathroom door is still wedged along the side of the entertainment center to keep him from going behind it, but with the cover torn off he can come and go as he pleases. I keep putting it back on but I know he can take it off whenever he wants.

What he had dragged out and left on my dining room floor that morning was a dream catcher I used to keep on my wall, stuffed with bird feathers I used to collect. I've grown used to staring at strange objects laying on my floor and trying to figure out “what the heck that is” before I've even put on my glasses and had a cup of coffee.

He’s developed some cute habits. Every night around eight o'clock he would disappear. It was too quiet. So, I searched the house looking for him one night and found him laying in my sink in the basement. He was so sweet. As I walked down the steps all I could see of him was his eyes and ears peeking up over the edge of the basin. He even looked like he had a little smile on his face.

Every night it was the same. I'd go down the basement steps and there he was just his eyes and ears peeking over the side with that sweet, dumb expression. So, I got a bath towel and an old bathroom carpet and put them in the sink to make it nice and cozy for him.

My little Opie was starting to grow up. One day I noticed, almost over night, that he had developed a fullness around his face. His baby face was gone. It made me feel a little sad. For as many times as I wanted to murder him, I was going to miss my baby kitten.

I removed the barriers from under my computer desk in the bedroom. As he got bigger he was able to tug on the cardboard I had there and slip through. So, the strategy I used was, if I remove all the barriers it won't be a challenge for him and he'll get bored with it and stay away. It’s sort of working. He goes under the desk and I don't yell anymore.

One night I was in bed reading and he went behind the desk. I told him to bet out from under there, but that was only to satisfy my own guilt feelings because, what kind of a mother would I be if I didn't say something? Everything was quiet for awhile. Then, slowly, the large bottom drawer began to open. Then, slowly, it shut. Then, the small top drawer opened. Then, it shut. This went on for a little while. If anybody was to see that and not know there was a cat under there, they would think it was a ghost. A drawer would open, then I could see a paw feeling its’ way around. I got up to see what he was doing when the little drawer opened and I could see his face at the back. Then, with the top drawer opened all the way, he came out from under the desk and was getting ready to hop into it so that he could push everything out of it. No, no, no. Bad (too smart for your own good) cat.

With the weather getting nice now, I can open the glass doors on my enclosed porch and let the cats get some fresh air. One Sunday afternoon I was out in the yard cleaning up a lot of old brush and weeds. A couple of cute kittens wandered in from somewhere. I was talking to the little grey and white one so fluffy and pretty. It was a sweet little thing. It wandered down toward my porch and I continued with my clean up. Then, all of a sudden, I heard this god-awful, high-pitched scream. I ran toward the porch trying to figure out what was going on. There was the kitten with its nose up against the screen and Opie was standing there on the porch with his back all hunched, and his tail all puffed out, and his fur all standing on end, and his eyes big, round blue and green saucers. He had a look of absolute horror on his face as he glared at the kitten. And the most awful wailing and screams coming from his mouth. I was so embarrassed because the whole neighborhood could hear him. I quickly ran inside and tried to calm him down. I had to chase the kitten away. Apparently, the only one Opie was scaring was me.

One morning not too long ago, I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. I was putting on my makeup when suddenly I heard a loud dial tone. Next, I heard a phone ringing as if a call was being made. I ran out and quickly glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to eight. I ran toward the sound and headed for the bedroom. Opie was standing on the phone and he looked up at me startled, as if he had been caught in the act. “Opie,” I said, “Get off the phone. Who are you calling?” I hurried to hang it up. Apparently, after knocking the receiver off the hook, he must have stepped on the speaker button which is why I heard the dial tone. Then, he must have stepped on the re-dial which is why I heard ringing. I tried to remember who I had called last. I had called my sister the night before. She’s a toll call. Now what was I going to do? What if he did the same thing when I left for work? I could see myself trying to explain that one to the phone company when trying to get a fifty dollar phone call removed from my bill:

“Yes, I know the call was made from my phone. But, I didn't make it. It was my cat. Why would I be on the phone with my sister for eight hours?”

Did Opie actually call my sister? Yes, he did. My sister said that on Wednesday morning at about a quarter to eight her phone rang twice. But, when she answered there was nobody there. That’s because I hung it up after the second ring.

If he’s going to try to use the phone, he should at least be more discreet. Maybe he was trying to call a cat buddy. I can think of at least one. I just pray that he doesn't become computer literate. If he ever gets a hold of my credit card…..

Copyright © Julie Balon
June 29, 2003