Joey has landed.
That's right. Joey made his arrival last night, with quite a bit of confusion and fear... on both the cat's part as well as my own.
As Joey's four paws made their first contact with the new residential terrain, my girlfriend (henceforth referred to as "Joey's Mom" or "JM" for short) began preparing our home for his extended stay.
Firstly, a new litter box was placed in the downstairs hall closet. This was the only place we agreed we could keep the litter box while minimizing damage to the carpets. What damage, you ask? Well, I have recently learned that when a cat enters a litter box, more often than not leftover gravel (or whatever the filler in a litter box is called) gets caked in its feet and gets left in its wake as it confidently leaves the box feeling a few ounces lighter. I wanted to keep that gravel on tile floor, as opposed to carpeting, so that it would be easier to clean. Hence the placement of the litter box in the downstairs hall closet, which is surrounded by tile. Plus, we live in the deep South, where nary a coat is ever really necessary. Thus the closet is actually just a storage space for my dress shoes and nothing more.
After getting the litter matter squared away, JM positioned separate food and water bowls in the entranceway between the kitchen and the game room, with a small black mat underneath them to catch food that didn't quite make it into Joey's mouth. Next, a small bed was placed in the living room for Joey to relax on while we all watched TV, or a movie, or played video games.
The house was finally prepared for Joey. However, he had no desire to accommodate us by laying in his bed. Instead, he decided to take to the carpets and explore his new domain like a feline Ferdinand Magellan. He idly scampered throughout the kitchen, game room, living room and the upstairs hallways (I shut the doors to the master bedroom and my office so he had no access to them, yet) as JM and I ate dinner and watched the Cavaliers play the Heat on NBATV.
After dinner I decided to retire to my upstairs office for some reading for school (I'm currently in an evening MBA program that takes up all of my free time after work each night). JM decided to take to her new favorite passion, watching "Friday Night Lights" via PS3 streaming from Netflix.
About 15 minutes into reading about "wait times in service queues" for my "Operations Management" course, I heard a purring at the closed door of my office. I then heard JM shout from downstairs "He just wants to hang out with you! Is that ok?"
I hesitantly obliged Joey's desire by opening the door, and for the first time he had access to my office. Once again Joey took to 17th century explorer mode and visited every nook and cranny of the room, rubbing his brown furry body on every wall along the way. Meanwhile, I dug back into my dense reading for the night and tried to ignore the 4,000lb. elephant (err... cat) in the room. Did I mention Joey is the fattest cat I've seen in my entire life. Like Guinness Book of World Records fat? Like making Ralphie May look like Calista Flockhart in comparison, fat?
Anyways, about five minutes later I heard a soft purring at my feet and looked down, only to see Joey on just his hind legs attempting to lunge at me. I quickly leaned back in my chair startled by the sight of a large beast before me, only to find Joey climb on my lap and make himself comfortable.
Yeah, yeah... cue the "awwwwww"
Well, not me.
"Oh great," I exclaimed aloud.
For the next 30 minutes, Joey proceeded to take a nap on my lap while I read my book. I decided to let him remain as opposed to tossing his body across the room like a Frisbee (albeit a very heavy and hairy Frisbee). I came to the realization that if we were ever going to coexist peacefully, it would be better if he actually took a shining to me. Thus despite my better judgement, his sharp nails (more on that later) and the fact that he was crushing my poor innocent thighs, I let him fall asleep on my lap as I read. Nevertheless, I continued to have this feeling that he was lulling me into a false sense of security while plotting my death so that he and JM could live alone in my home.
Finally, Joey tired of me and frolicked to the ground and out of the room. I continued reading until JM came upstairs to check on me. It was then that Joey followed into the room once more, and JM realized that Joey's nails needed clipping for fear of getting stuck in the carpet.
Then things got real.
JM asked me, "Do you have any nail clippers?"
I looked at her sternly and quickly barked, "What for?" knowing exactly what she was about to say.
When she explained that she wanted to give Joey a manicure, I was mortified. Having a cat live in my home was one thing, but sharing hygienic supplies with him was an entirely different matter. Did I mention that Joey has feline AIDS?
Doesn't this cat just get better and better the more you learn about him?
Yeah, it's a real disease, but apparently not transferable to humans, though rather damaging to cats. For years I was hoping to simply "wait out Joey" but I recently came to the realization that he is the Magic Johnson of the feline world and will probably outlive us all.
Now back to the matter at hand... the nail clippers. I hesitated at first (as you can see why), until JM pointed out that I have never once used my nail clippers and that I have a nervous habit of tearing at my own nails, thus rendering the tool useless to me. When I realized she was right, I decided to oblige and let Joey have the nail clippers, knowing that I would never consider using them on my own nails now that they were tainted with "feline cooties."
Yeah, I'm a five-year old boy trapped inside of a 32-year old man's body.
After giving Joey's paws a fresh makeover, JM decided she was ready to go to bed. This was when I broke the sobering news to her. You see, JM was used to sleeping with Joey every night at her house. However, I had no desire of sharing a bed with an animal and explained as such. JM surprisingly understood where I was coming from, and we decided that we would ferberize Joey.
JM explained to me that Joey desperately like to be around people, and if he was aware that we were behind a closed door, he would likely sit at the door and whimper and cry until he got his way... much like a baby. So we decided to let him cry all night long as we slept, in an effort to train him to get used to the notion of sleeping alone.
Since I was not tired yet, I left JM to sleep and shut the bedroom door. Unfortunately, my bedroom door doesn't remain shut tight, instead it always opens a small crack unless you actually lock it from the inside, which JM could not do because I was going to be downstairs reading my textbook for a little while and coming to bed later that night. So as I trotted down the stairs, I hoped Joey would not be smart enough to fling his massive gut into the door and realize it could be opened while JM slept.
Needless to say my hopes were dashed.
About an hour later I finished up my reading and decided to retire to bed. I looked around for Joey but could not find him. I went upstairs and checked my office. Nothing but tumbleweed in a desert of empty space.
Then I feared the worst. I saw that my bedroom door was open a bit more than I had left it. I slowly entered my bedroom and squinting through the darkness I was able to make out Joey laying comfortably on my side of the bed as JM unknowingly slept nearby.
It was as if he was smirking at me with a, "whatchu gonna do about it old man?" look in his beady little eyes.
What I proceeded to do was throw quite a little hissyfit.
I tried to shoo Joey off the bed, but to no avail. All of my racket awoke JM, and she immediately identified the situation. She picked Joey up and tossed him on the ground in one foul swoop. He went scampering towards the exit as I chased him out of the bedroom and locked the door behind him.
For the next 10 minutes he continuously scratched at the door and cried to be let in. JM fell asleep again pretty quickly, and as I fell asleep I thought... "I survived the first night."
Now some of you may think I'm a cold heartless bastard for leaving Joey sad and alone outside my bedroom door all night, but there was no way I was going to share a bed with him. Having him in my home is one thing. Having him in my bed is an entirely different matter that I'm not ready to handle quite yet.
Day 1... in the books.
Let's see how day 2 goes, when Joey and I spend our first day together alone...
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