Bloodlust

Every morning Meera & Kai crowd the door as I come in to say hi before breakfast. They circle my legs until I find a spot on the floor to sit--among the crumpled pieces of paper bag, the bits of string, the catnip toys, the footstool, and whatever else they've pulled onto the floor. I've been keeping a sheet draped over the armchair, but the other day it had been pulled completely off, and lay crumpled on the bed, three feet away.

As I settle in, mewing Meera is first to circle close. She doesn't like it when I reach for her head; she ducks and takes a step away. But if I start by stroking her back, and then scratch up her neck to that lovely flat spot between her ears, she'll tilt her head to the side and squinch her eyes shut. She has such a beautiful face when she does that, so incredibly tiny, black eyeliner and cheek stripes so precise. If I pause for a moment in the stroking, she'll crawl into my lap and rub her cheeks against my hands; she'll walk down one leg and up the other, and rub some more.

Something new: she (and Kai) will spend a long moment looking me in the face when I'm down on the floor. It's a thrill, that contact; one animal acknowledging another. They see me! Brat will look me in the eye for a long while, and lazily blink at me if I lazily blink at him. His face seems broader and sturdier since I brought the kittens home, his personality much steadier and calmer. I know it's just by comparison. He was always this sweet.

In the mornings, Kai won't crawl in my lap for attention the way Meera will. He'll watch her getting her head rubbed. He'll circle around behind me. Then he'll stand just behind my elbow and wait. When I notice him there, I'll stroke his back softly til he starts to purr. He'll step forward, keeping his back to me, and hold perfectly still as I rub him down. He watches the door or the corner of the room, as if at any moment he'll walk off and leave the loving to Meera. But he doesn't walk off. He soaks it up. He's a statue when I pet him; Meera is a pushy beggar.

Yesterday I stopped by the store on my way home from work, and picked up one of those fishing rod cat toys, with the long-feathered badminton-birdie at the end of the string. I couldn't wait to show it to the kitties. I unwrapped it in my living room and whirled it around a few times. It made a great whizzing sound, and the birdie really fluttered like a bird as it shuttled back and forth through the air.

I carried it into the back bedroom, all naive and sweet and unsuspecting. As soon as Kai saw it, he got this crazed look in his eye, leapt from the bed and snatched the birdie in his mouth. It shocked me how fast he moved. I hadn't even shut the door behind me, and Meera hadn't even stood from her nap before Kai was backing under the bed with feathers poking out from his face.

I tugged on the string so I could show him, "Look! It flies like a bird!" Kai felt the tension, tensed his little body, and began rumbling. I gently tugged some more, and the rumble changed to a growl. Meera wanted to see what was going on, so she jumped off the bed and slowly approached him. He growled louder and tried to back further under the bed.

This is no game, I thought to myself. A growling cat? I didn't even get to make the toy fly! I wanted to leave immediately, but with the toy. That meant putting my my hand near Kai's mouth. Seriously, I feared for my safety. From a 2 pound pile of fur.

Nothing to do but wait him out. I pulled harder on the string. After a long moment, Kai unclenched his teeth to get a better grip, and the bird flew out of his mouth, high into the air. Biiiiig mistake. As I struggled to get the bird out of the air and hidden in my hand, Kai started to leap up my legs to get at it. And the boy's got claws! To tell you the truth, I was scared. What happened to my innocent little explorer? My affectionate little water baby?

I backed toward the door, praying no blood would be shed. Kai frantically scrabbled around my feet, birdlust in his eyes, and then leapt to the counter by the door. So he was eye-level with me, within paw's reach; I did the only thing I could think of. I tucked the bird into my shirt and turned my back, thinking: I don't *really* mind if he shreds my back to pieces, but I 'll try to save my face and stomach. Psycho Cat looked wildly all around the room; he leapt from bed to counter to desk to armchair, searching the airspace below the ceiling and checking my hands again and again, mewing mournfully the whole time.

I got the heck out of there. Back in the living room, I put the toy high up on a bookcase, and made a mental note to buy another soon. Next time I'll go into their room; I'll throw one fishing rod/birdie across the room for Kai to eviscerate, and keep the other close for Meera to play with, in a relatively safe zone. We'll see how that works out.