Why Guido needs a kitten

I have come to the conclusion that our cat Guido is in need of a kitten. Guido has been a member of the household since November 1999. (see story of Obleo in this blog) For several years inbetween we had a second cat, Max, who was a "free to a good home" we found in the newspaper. Unfortunately, Max did not live a long life, subject to being shot once and breaking a leg a year later, his poor little kitty heart could not take any more stress and he passed away. Since that point Guido has been the sole pet of the house.

Now, we have already ascertained that Guido never misses a meal. If his food bowl is below the half full level then he is automatically standing in front of Melody or myself meowing like a broken record. If I am not out of bed by 5:30am to feed him his morning "pounce" snack, then he stands by the bed and meows like .... well... like a broken record. If I reach down from the bed I can reach his little kitty head with my hand, but to date I have not felt the urge to throttle him, only to gentlely stroke him while telling him in a kind voice to "shut the $@%(&@ up!!!".

At this point you are probably thinking... "gee Rich, aggrevating.... but doesn't really go toward why you think Guido needs a kitten..... True, but wanted to let you know the type of house tyrant that Guido can be when he wants his way.

Which leads to the reason why the need for the pet for my pet. Recently, there have been instances where Guido has been sleeping next to me while I was sitting ready on either the love seat or the couch with my feet up on the seat right next to him. He has proceeded to wake up, shake off the sleepiness, lower his ears, and sink his teeth into my leg. He thinks of this as play time. I think of it as pain. I usually manage to dislodge this misguided pseudo-vampire from my leg, only to hear a low growl emerge from him like a long dormant volcano waking up, followed by another lunge at my leg, arm, or any other body part in range of his big gnarly cat teeth. This will usually go on for at least ten minutes or so, which makes me wonder if my loving housecat ocassionally wants to "play" then why the hell would any sane person want to own a lion, puma, bengal tiger, or other exotic cat for a pet when twice a year it might lose it's marbles and try to play "McDonald's Happy Meal" with your torso?

It has only happened twice since Max passed away and happened with the same frequency before we adpoted Max, but he never attacked either one of us while Max was around.


I wonder why not????