Trouble with a capital “T”

Osiris earned the nickname “Trouble” when she was a week and a half old and was already crawling out of the cat bed. Now that she’s almost 5 months old, the name has definitely stuck.

Until today, she was too small to leap onto the kitchen counter. Then Josh caught her up there three times in a row, and we sentenced her to a half-hour time out in a cat carrier. (Squirting her with water, our punishment method for the other cats, won’t work since she likes water. I flicked water on her repeatedly when she tried to climb into the dishwasher and just got a look that said, “Yeah, and?”)

After her punishment was up, I let her out and she hopped onto the counter 60 seconds later. ARGH. She went right back into the carrier, this time for an hour. Hopefully she’s learned her lesson. Only time will tell.

I know that there are training books for dogs; I’m all set to review one in a few days. Although I think that someone needs to figure out how to train cats. There must be a way to coerce them into deciding to behave themselves.

In the meantime, I’ll just continue to be astonished by the Trouble she manages to get herself into.


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