It should only be a poltergeist!

I got up in the middle of the night and tripped on something. Since I don’t sleep in my contacts and my glasses were out of reach, I just nudged the unseen something out of my way, made for the bathroom- where everything came out all right- and then went back to bed. In the morning, I discovered the something was the white rubber stopper from my tub. How in the world, I wondered, did that thing get here? I put it back where it belongs.

Later in the day, I stumbled upon a black rubber something that turned out to be the gasket from my garbage disposal. I jumped to the only logical conclusion for these bizarre events- we must have a poltergeist. You know, poltergeists really piss me off, so I did the obligatory three turns to the left followed by spitting on the floor which is guaranteed to piss them off in return, and put the gasket back into the kitchen sink. Done and done, I thought.

But I was wrong. (I will give you a moment to get over the shock of that statement.) It wasn’t over, because the next day, the two items were right back where they didn’t belong, in the middle of my bedroom (white) and the middle of the kitchen (black). I realized I was wrong on two points- we don’t have a poltergeist, and this thing isn’t over.

And as long as Hobbes lives with us, it may never be over. Yes, Hobbes, the water-loving feline has developed a fetish involving sink and tub stoppers. He needs them. He craves them. He may even worship them, who knows? Whatever his pathology may be, I don’t want him tearing up the plumbing. My problem is I am stymied as to how to discipline the little twerp.

The problem: You can’t reason with a cat (hello! They are morons!), you can’t hit a cat (they are vengeful and will pee down your heating vents), and, especially in the case of Hobbes, you can’t scare a cat. They can be startled, but, being essentially brainless, they are, of course, essentially fearless. I have a discipline tactic that is fool-proof, but sadly it’s not Hobbes-proof.

You may remember me telling you about using the tried and true water treatment on Hobbes to discourage him from naughty behavior. This tactic has worked on 15 of the 16 cats on which it has been used. You fill a squirt bottle with water and squirt kitty whenever he misbehaves… cats hate water… millions of squirts later, VOILA! You have a trained kitty. Unless, of course, kitty LIKES to be squirted.

Hobbes likes to be squirted. He likes to get into the kitchen sink. Since squirting didn’t deter him, I tried pouring a full 12 ounces of water on his head to get him out of the kitchen sink, and he liked that, too. He likes to slide around in the bathtub while it is still wet from my shower, and then slide across the laminate floor on his wet paws. Hobbes Brinker, the skating cat. He has learned to flush the toilet because he likes to play in the swirling water.

Sigh. I am at the end of my tether.

Newest wrinkle: He likes to sleep in Mama’s sink.

Mama, of course, doesn’t care for this behavior. She screams at him thirty or forty times a day.

Hobbes apparently likes being screamed at as well.

It’s very wet and noisy here. How are things in your world?