Not THE leather chair, but an old one Mr. Meow likes to sleep on in my office.
The cat I knew pre-Tabby is back! (Almost.) He’s not 100% there yet, but he’s close.
I wrote yesterday about the huge strides he’s made insofar as getting off his leather chair, coming into the kitchen, and even making an appearance in my office. But even bigger than all of those combined was what he did not once yesterday, but twice, and then again this morning.
Tabby is a colossal pig. She eats everything! Paper (okay, she doesn’t exactly eat this, just rips it to shreds), Murphy’s food (including his treats), and not only whatever’s in her bowl, but whatever’s in Mr. Meow’s too. (I put them in separate locations, and when I fill them up, she looks into her bowl before darting off to eat from Mr. Meow’s. Keep in mind, Mr. Meow won’t budge from his chair to swap dishes, so he suffers watching her devour all his food.)
Before Tabby came along, Mr. Meow’s eating spot was on a table in the laundry room. Once Tabby got utterly wicked about chasing him anytime she caught him out and about, he stopped going in there altogether. I was forced to feed him elsewhere to make sure he didn’t starve to death. I moved his bowl out to the fireplace by his chair, put hers in the kitchen, but kept their food stored in the laundry room.
Yesterday, Mr. Meow went into the laundry room and hopped up on his table in the afternoon. He used to do this all the time to signal he was ready for feeding time. So I gathered up the bowls, as it was their regular feeding time, and headed for the food.
As is her way, Tabby rushed in with me…then stopped short when she saw Mr. Meow in there. When I filled up his bowl, put it in front of him, and then went to fill hers, she hopped up there with him.
Mr. Meow has no claws, but he hissed and swatted and made it perfectly clear she was not welcome up there with him. To my surprise, she relented and jumped down. When I put her bowl back in its spot, she had no choice but to go eat it.
Now the second Mr. Meow jumped down, she was there to chase him back to his chair, but it had a different vibe to it. It wasn’t the frenzied ruckus they normally create. It was as if she sensed a shift, too.
Later that night, Mr. Meow came into the kitchen while I was doing dishes. He didn’t quite make it to where he could jump on the counter before she ambushed him, so he went for the next best thing: the dining room table.
Of course she followed him right up there. He jumped down on one of the chairs, but instead of hopping off and running for the safety of his leather chair, he turned around, raised himself up on his back legs, hissed, and raised his front paws ready to duke it out.
This confused Tabby to no end. She switched her tail in an irritated manner, circled around, then ultimately backed off and went to sit with Wayne on the couch.
Both times I praised Mr. Meow, using the positive reinforcement approach. And I did it again this morning when he was on the counter drinking water and she came to harass him, but again he stood his ground.
I don’t know if it helps, encourages him to stick up for himself, or if he’s just tired of being a gentleman, but this is the cat I know. The one who doesn’t let anyone best him, boss him, pick on him, or intimidate him. Welcome back, Mr. Meow!