After all the moving around and traveling of the early Summer - we left the cat at my brother’s while we went to Italy, then he went to live with my fiancée’s uncles for a couple of weeks while we went to my (almost) native Russia, then he flew with us to Berlin for a few weeks… And had to take in the noise of the plane’s engines, which he didn’t particularly like… And by that I mean he looked like he was being stabbed with needles or something to that effect… So, after all of that, we decided to let the little guy be a little, not move him around for a while and just let him rest on his usual couch. Which we did, so he did, and all gradually got back to normal.
Then, a couple of evenings ago, something happened. You know how a cat starts running around after having gone to his litter box, seemingly to create a diversion from the smelly mess he left behind? Well, he did just that around 11:30pm, as we were getting ready for bed. Then again, that’s usually when he goes apeshit, because cats don’t have watches. But there was something strange about his behaviour this time: he kept on mewing like a madman (or, rather, a mad cat) for much longer than usual, as if he was back with the noise of the plane’s engine in his ears, plus he kept on… rubbing his ass on the floor.
That’s right: the little guy would sit on his ass with his front legs straight and then proceed to start moving using said legs, with his ass sort of sliding on the floor in the process.
Me: Hum… That is weird… Has he ever done that?
Fiancée: Not that I recall…
Me: Is it still time to return him to the pet store?
Fiancée: 8 years later? I doubt it…
Me: So what then? Should we film him?
Fiancée: How many other stupid ideas are you gonna have tonight?
Fiancée: Well, keep them for yourself. And let’s try to check on him instead.
We did: as I was holding him so that my girlfriend was trying to examine, well, his ass to understand what was happening, he obviously managed to cut free, scratching both my hands in the process. We’re 10 days away from our wedding, and I purposefully stopped playing with him so as not have such scratches and here you go… And this was all for nothing too: no way to hold him long to see what was going on. We could only guess that his latest bowel movement had been somewhat incomplete and that he had to push some more to be a happy cat again.
Fiancée: Let’s leave him alone and see what happens. Worst case scenario, you bring to the vet tomorrow morning.
Me: Have you thought about the shape of my hands if I do this?
Fiancée: Well, let’s hope we don’t have to find out…
We didn’t: the cat went back to his litter box and stopped mewing, appearing to confirm our hypothesis. So I still have a shot at having normal looking hands at the wedding. If the cat doesn’t look at me like he wants to play, that is.