The damn cat

We have a cat.  Her name is Cookie, and she's a black-and-white "special" cat.  I say "special" because it is quite obvious to me, after having had quite a few cats growing up, that Cookie is not at the same mental capacity as other cats.  She'll be 10 sometime this year but doesn't really seem any different in her older age than her younger days.

I adopted her in 2004 right after I finished graduate school - I had a dream one night that I had a cat, and when I woke up, I knew I had to get a cat that day.  Not a kitten, a cat.  One who had already gone through all the kitten crap, was over that, had some maturity, and could eat and potty in the correct places.  I went to the Maricopa County Animal Shelter in Mesa that day with my wallet, apartment rental agreement, and cat carrier (I bought it that morning) to find my new friend.  I walked up and down the rows looking at all the cats that were there (more dogs, really), and everytime I went by Cookie's cage, she meowed at me.  I noticed that she didn't meow at anyone else that walked by, just me.  It must be a sign, I thought.  So, I asked a volunteer if I could open the cage, go in there, hold her, and just generally get to know her.  No problem, she let me in, and Cookie just sat there staring at me with these HUGE eyes.  She was terrified of the place, that was obvious, but not of me.  She let me pick her up and hold her (something she has hardly ever let me do since), carry her around her small temporary home, and just generally love on her.  After that, I couldn't say no to her.  I took care of the paperwork, the adoption fee, and went to get her.  Cookie was 2 at the time, and the paperwork said she had been at the shelter for about two weeks already.  Reason for relinquishment by previous owner(s)?  "Allergies."  Bull$hit.  Someone probably just didn't want her anymore and needed some label to get rid of her in their mind.  Didn't matter to me, I was taking her home.  So, Cookie came home with me.  When I got her back to my apartment, she immediately hid under my bed and wouldn't come out for anything.  I gave up after awhile and let her discover things at her pace, making sure the food, water, and litter box were pretty obvious.  I went to bed that night and suddenly there was this warm bundle of kitty snuggling up to me by my waist.  Oh, I fell in love:  this kitty liked me!

A month later, I met my husband.  He slowly got to know Cookie as well, and then we married and moved to our condo.  Change of pace, but Cookie did fine with that.

A month after moving into the condo, my husband decided to adopt the stray dog his parents found.  So, Belle came to live with us.  Cookie was horrified by her for awhile, but once Belle understood she was the alpha and the dog was subservient, it wasn't too bad.  They even snuggled together.

A couple years after that, my husband got a job offer that moved us from the Phoenix area to Tucson.  We lived with his parents for a few months before we bought our house, but then we were here.  Two moves, not too bad for Cookie.  I do remember drugging her for the drive down here - she was absolutely silent (sleeping) until we got to Picacho Peak.  All of a sudden, there was this really loud "MYOWR!" from my passenger seat, where her cat carrier was.  I think I almost wrecked the car I was so startled, lol!  Cookie hated my in-laws' house, but settled into our house no problem.

A couple years after that, we had L.  Cookie's world changed incredibly.  She didn't outwardly show resentment towards baby L, but she definitely let us know she was not a fan.  The pooping began.  She would poop right outside L's room.  We blocked the area.  She would poop right by the area we blocked.  We banned her from the entire hallway/rooms with a baby gate.  She would poop by the baby gate.  We laid foil all around the area and sprayed it with stuff to deter her.  Nope, she'd just move the foil and poop there more.  Finally, as L grew bigger, the pooping diminished but didn't disappear entirely.  Then, we threw E into the mix.  More pooping.  More punishment for pooping.  Pooping continued.  We're basically at the point now where we have banned Cookie from being upstairs during the day.  She gets thrown out of our bedroom at 5am and she's not allowed back in it until about 7pm (she usually spends her days lounging on our bed, then goes to poop in the hallway).  There is a litter box right beside where she poops.  It's infuriating.  We've tried giving her positive attention - she poops.  We've tried punishing her by putting her in the kennel at the vet's office for a few days - she poops.  We've tried throwing her in the bathroom with her food, water, and litter box as punishment - she poops.  We've tried cleaning the areas dramatically to make sure it doesn't smell or have any attraction to her - she poops.  My husband has even caught her getting ready to poop in the hallway and put her in the litter box.  She won't poop.  She'll wait until he gives up, go back to the baby gate, and poop.  SHE WON'T STOP TAKING F*ING CRAPS IN THE HALLWAY NO MATTER WHAT WE DO.

I realize I've had her for 8 years, but I'm getting tired of this behavior.  I feel like we've tried everything we can think of (and read about) to get her to change her behavior and our reward is cleaning up f*ing cat crap in the hallway all the time.  I'm tired of the girls almost stepping in it when they want to go to their rooms.  I'm tired of smelling it, using carpet cleaner, spraying the area, and looking at the poor carpet and wondering when I'm going to have to replace it.  WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET HER TO STOP BEFORE I THROW HER OUTSIDE FOR THE COYOTES TO EAT?!???  I'm kidding, I wouldn't do that - but I would consider giving her away.  It's so damn frustrating.

Our Christmas photo for 2006, with Cookie and Belle.

A very young husband plays with Cookie (February 2005)

Me sleeping with Cookie while we lived with my in-laws' (spring 2007)