As a result of projection, you can circle down this drain fast and often, and it is purely a result of not understanding cat life, body language, or Mojo. If you keep going down that drain, however, you will continue to unnecessarily degrade your relationship with your cat. Let’s not go there.
AS WE APPROACH the end of this section, I’m hopeful that the Cat Mojo Toolbox system has addressed almost any question or challenge you might have imagined—from the ground up. Moving forward, you’ll need a system in place to maintain the Mojo, so that you can resolve any issues either before they happen or just after they do. This leads us to . . .
CAT DETECTIVISM
Part of the reason I’ve been successful at walking into someone’s home and solving cat problems for them is because I don’t live there. I’m like a detective; I come in, observant and impartial, and I assess a problem. I’m not entwined in the story line, or any drama, projections, or heavy emotions thereof.
Example: Your cat has been peeing in your new boyfriend’s gym bag every night he stays over. You presume your cat is saying “I. Hate. Him.” But to me, pee anywhere is your cat saying “I’m anxious about my territory.” As impossible as it may seem in the moment, there’s no need to take it personally or create a big scene around it. That’s called living in the story. Instead, we investigate the particulars of the how, why, where, and when, and try to resolve the issue. As Joe Friday in Dragnet would always say, “Just the facts, ma’am.” I call this Cat Detectivism.
The art of detached observation will get you through a lifetime of living with your cat successfully. As humans, we don’t have a decent frame of reference for what it is like to be a cat. We can’t pretend we do. I’m not saying you have to be completely detached from a being you love and have a relationship with, but, for their sake, you can damn well do your best.
This is the cardinal rule of Cat Detectivism: you take the actual temperature in the room, not the exaggerated version. If you walk into the house and see a spot of pee, I need you to recognize it as urine—nothing more—then clean it up, forgive, and move on. This will enable you to notice, manage, and diagnose any issue much quicker. Just remember to forgive and move on. Take heightened emotions out of the equation. Forgive and move on. It’s a hell of a lot easier to hot-wire a car when it’s not already running. (Not that I would know.)
With the cardinal rule understood, here are a few more guidelines for Cat Detectivism:
Simply describe or write down what happened in the “just the facts” style that a reporter might: “It was four o’clock in the morning, I woke up, he was sitting on my chest, I did this, he did that. . . .”
If you are talking about urine issues, your best friend is a UV flashlight, otherwise known as a black light. You’ve probably seen it in detective TV shows like CSI as an invaluable tool to illuminate blood at crime scenes—not only to pinpoint placement, but the actual spatter, the shape of the stain. This tool is just as invaluable when dealing with urine as with blood. Simply wait till sundown when you can darken the space, and go for it. In many cases, sorry to say, you will probably find more stains than you thought existed. For the sake of Detectivism, record that shape. For instance, little drops can signify a urinary tract infection, while marks that start vertically on furniture or the wall and pool down at the floor tell you most likely it is territorial marking (more on this in section 4).Also, consider the color of the stain under the light. The darker the stain, the fresher it is. As it fades, it signifies that you’ve either attempted to clean it before, or it is just older. Time breaks down the protein strands of the urine, and with that comes a lighter color. Unfortunately, since cat urine is, in part, designed to permanently mark a surface even after it is completely cleaned, there will be a white “stain” under the black light (and only under the black light, not perceptible to the naked eye) since it broke down the color strands of the rug as well.
When describing the incident, remove any part that has a qualitative element. If you say he “viciously attacked you” when, in reality, he lightly bit or scratched in response to something like overstimulation, well, now we have some shoddy reporting gumming up the works. I’ve even heard the word “attack” ascribed to perceived intent; the guardian felt that an attack was about to happen. This level of interpretation clearly has no part to play in Detectivism. As we covered earlier, cats don’t behave out of spite (or at least not our anthropomorphized definition of it). And as we covered earlier—words matter. Step away from heightened, sensationalized, or conclusive language. Remember, we’re still just gathering facts here.
Knowing everything you now know about the Raw Cat, prepare a checklist of anything that could be Mojo threatening. The checklist should address these questions: What raised your cat’s anxiety? What is threatening your cat’s Mojo? Was there fighting? Did you run out of her favorite food? Is the carrier out? Your suitcases? Were there visitors, or outside cats?
Prepare yourself to be patient. Trust the process, because rushing things usually backfires. There are no deadlines or schedules—it just doesn’t work that way. No matter how hard you try to control the clock, cat problems run on cat time, not human time.
Try to be informed by the behaviors you observe. Think in terms of stress and anxiety, and log behaviors, look for patterns, and write down details. Nothing is random and nothing is personal. All problematic behaviors are rooted in fear, anxiety, and pain, or some combination thereof.
Superdeluxe Cat Detectivism: The Anti–Treasure Map
Cat Detectivism is a great place to use the Mojo Map I introduced in chapter 8. The Mojo Map now becomes the Anti–Treasure Map, where Xs mark the spot where any incidences of unwanted behavior occurred. Whether we are talking about litterbox issues, aggression, or what have you, just slap an “X” on the exact location where it happened. And when I say exact, I mean it: which side of the couch, in front or behind, on the left or right of the front right leg. . . . For a good detective, the devil is in the details.
Also, add a key, of sorts, to your Mojo Map: for each incident, assign the X (or colored star sticker) a number. On the side of the map, record “Just the facts, ma’am.” Time and date, any behaviors you observed before or after, and how close it was to mealtime or any other energy spikes of your home. Using all of the techniques I listed in this section, observe and record. Stick with detached observation, put it down on your map, and build your case. If you have ruled out medical causes for the behavior, I can almost guarantee that if you just gather the Xs for a number of days or weeks, remain detached and just gather information, the Anti–Treasure Map will emerge as Xs mark not just the spots but the patterns. You will see that random acts are anything but.
PREEMPTIVE CAT DETECTIVISM
If I went on TV screaming like the ShamWow guy that there were indelible tip-offs, little shortcuts I could give you in body language—gait, ear position, sleeping or eating patterns—that could predict destructive incidents of peeing or aggression in your cat . . . you might be tempted to grab the bait. After all, most folks see their cat as a collection of symptoms, a four-legged math equation that has a universal solution. Too bad such is not the case. You now know that, through the art of detachment, and the science of observation, you can begin to really understand the unique how, why, where, and when behind what makes your cat do what he sometimes does.
Earlier on, I made it a point that a good detective isn’t entwined in the story line that he enters into. It’s crucial to understand, however, that the story matters only insofar as it furthers your ability to tell the real story. Nothing, in the context of your case, happens in a vacuum; that is to say, use what you know in terms of the story of your cat as only you know it—her physical history, her life before she got to live with you (if you’re fortunate enough to have that information), and the story of traumas she’s endured and how she moved through that trauma. With that information, you can apply it to the present m
oment in the same way a detective could be interviewing either victim, suspect, or witness, and notice that as the person is telling a story he is tapping his foot and starting to sweat. Your unique perspective on your cat’s life with and before you gives you incredible insights on her present, unusual behavior.
Finally, the next level to aspire to—and much of what we’ll be covering in the final chapters—is the preemptive side of Cat Detectivism. This has to do with what we can do to circumvent or avoid certain anti-Mojo behaviors or actions. The thing is, it’s actually much easier to bring a heightened sense of awareness to the behavior that a cat would exhibit before she acts out. This is an essential mindfulness tool to have on board, because sometimes Cat Detectivism isn’t about saving your carpet from urine—it’s about saving your cat’s life.
A CRY FOR HELP: THE CAT DADDY RED FLAGS
The Raw Cat is always on guard—that’s life smack in the middle of the food chain. There’s always a hunt to be had and always a chance that she may be hunted. For this reason, the very last thing cats can do is show pain. Pain equals vulnerability, and predators can smell what they perceive to be weakness.
Your cat carries that stoic nature with her, along with most of the rest of her ancestor’s survival tactics. That’s why we have to keep an eagle eye out for behavioral changes that may signify physical challenges emerging.
The following list of behavioral red flags is by no means comprehensive, but most have presented themselves to me either in the context of my work or with my own cats. When approaching litterbox issues, for example, I often talk about the concept of cats “raising the yellow flag.” What I’m reminding you of there is that while we are running around, postulating, theorizing, and throwing all kinds of behavioral spaghetti against the wall, seeing what will stick, the cat is actually saying “OUCH!” The upshot is, if you see something out of place, either visually, behaviorally, or just on a gut level, go to the vet.
Living on the fridge or under the bed: This is a sign that something in the environment is threatening. As I mentioned, the Raw Cat, feeling vulnerable because of pain or illness, would also choose to hide or withdraw.
Urinating or defecating outside of the litterbox: There are lots of possible medical reasons, including cystitis, crystals, infection, kidney disease, digestive problems, diabetes, and the list goes on. Two clues to look for that usually signify a physical component: eliminating directly outside the litterbox, sometimes by inches, and very small amounts of pee spread out by a matter of steps.
Chewing on things that aren’t food: See chapter 17 for more on Pica, or the eating of nonfood items.
Changes in behavior, such as sudden-onset aggression: If a person in your life suddenly had a radical change in personality, you would be concerned. If your cat is suddenly lashing out—either toward human or animal family members—there’s a solid chance that, just like us, he’s got a shorter fuse because he’s dealing with pain or discomfort of some sort.
Nighttime activity or an increase in vocalizations: Hyperthyroidism is a common medical condition in older cats that can increase activity and vocalization. Older cats who are experiencing worsening vision, hearing, or the onset of dementia may also become loud or disoriented at night when the lights go out.
Itching, scratching, self-biting, or grooming to the point of baldness or irritation: We’ve already discussed the incredibly sensitive skin of our cats. The potential causes of these symptoms can be frustratingly wide: allergies (food, inhalant, environmental), a skin problem or a flea infestation, or even escalating stress in the home that manifests in overgrooming.
Excessive sleeping: You now know that cats don’t just sleep all the time. If your cat has become completely withdrawn or lost interest in all of the things, people, or activities that once gave her joy, that is a cry for help—just as it would be for a human.
12
Whose Line Is It Anyway?
Cat Parenting and the Human Challenge Line
IT’S ALMOST A cliché at this point to sum up our relationship with our animal companions by calling them our best friends. As a matter of fact, it’s pretty hard to sum up the relationship in words, period. This brings to mind one of the most asked questions I receive about cats: “Why does my cat bring me half-eaten prey? Is it a gift of some sort? If so, by the way, can I bring it back?” Of course, just like any other most-asked question, there are multiple explanations and theories why—but that’s not the point. I’ve always been fascinated by the gesture because I see it as being distinctly, yet frustratingly, double-headed.
First, yes, it seems like a “gift,” almost like a child presenting you with a macaroni-and-glue portrait he made of you in his second-grade art class. But there’s another side, based on what we know about cats: it can also be a meal. Mama cat returning to her litter with “test food” to encourage her young away from the nipple, and to get a taste of what they should be doing on their own. In other words, that simple gesture is both child-to-parent and parent-to-child. Which is to say, relationships are complicated, and each party may have multiple roles. Even in giving them meaning beneath their labels—best friend, guardian, parent—the label you choose matters less than the effort, sacrifice, and vulnerability shown to put your money where your relational mouth is.
Here’s the thing—in the examples we detail throughout this chapter, it will become obvious that your cats don’t always need a best friend; they need a parent. And you have to be cool with the knowledge that many times, the parent will not be the most popular person in the room.
I’ve spent much time asking you to follow me into the deeper waters of the heart, to take personal risk for the sake of building real relationships, to leave the concept of cat ownership behind and embrace the risk and reward of cat parenting. So here we are in the aforementioned deeper waters facing a problem—us. It’s one thing to live the greeting card ideal of cat parenting, and another to live the Mojo-inspiring life of a cat parent. In this chapter, I hope to guide you more fully to the side where the Mojo waters run the deepest.
In chapter 9, we talked about our role in helping our cats cross key Challenge Lines, so they can enjoy a better quality of life. And we likened this experience to helping our human children across Challenge Lines by “making” them do things (like go to school, even if they’re initially afraid to), all in the name of their personal growth. Now it’s time for us humans to cross a few Challenge Lines, particularly when our personal apprehensions overshadow the best interests of our beloved cat children.
Besides, it’s just the right thing to do. Perhaps you’ve never figured out how to get your cat into a carrier because you think she hates it so much. But what if you had a real emergency go down tomorrow and had to get her out of your home in a hurry? Or maybe the idea of medicating your cat freaks you out because you think it would freak her out to have you slip a pill down her throat every day. But if that pill ultimately meant the difference between health and sickness, or maybe even life or death, you would have to get it done, wouldn’t you?
Instead of avoiding those things that cats don’t like, and, by extension, we don’t like, let’s find a way to deal with them anyway. And I’m not just talking about the how-to mechanics of the dreaded activity. It’s also about how you approach these procedures in order not to create bad associations for both you and your cat. And if this seems too daunting, take heart: even under these most trying conditions, there are ways to “mitigate the misery and maximize the Mojo.”
LOVING TOO MUCH: BEATING OBESITY
One of the challenges with feline obesity is that we contribute to it. So many of us grew up in “food equals love” homes, so it’s understandable that we would pass that feeling on. It pains us to deny our animal companions excessive amounts of junk food treats we know they love, so we put it squarely in our “unpleasantries” category. But if this food is destroying their health, denying them these excessive amounts is exact
ly what we must do.
Companion animal obesity even parallels the human obesity crisis, with recent data suggesting similar increases in the prevalence of obesity and type 2 diabetes in children, cats, and dogs. If that fact gives you pause, consider the following:
As of the writing of this book, over 58 percent of cats are overweight, with some 15 percent of cats qualifying as obese. That means, according to the Association of Pet Obesity Prevention, that “80 million U.S. dogs and cats are at increased risk for weight-related disorders such as diabetes, osteoarthritis, hypertension, and many cancers.”
The number of overweight to obese cats and dogs has roughly doubled in the past twenty years.
Obesity causes wear and tear on a cat’s joints, which can lead to pain, irritability, and stiffness. I’ve seen a direct and repeated correlation between obesity and behavior problems like litterbox avoidance. Because carrying all that extra weight is so uncomfortable, and squatting in or getting in or out of the box hurts, these cats have a negative association with the location. Likewise, obesity leads to a reduction in prey-based exercise because it is just too painful an operation. This inactivity continues a vicious cycle of weight gain, unless we interrupt that pattern.
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