Iffy Update
Iffy came into heat over the weekend.
The short summary of what this means is this: yowling. Not quite Whitman's barbaric yawp - a more rounded, civilised sound - but just as irritating after a while. She makes the noise with her mouth barely open, muzzle stretched out, a strange bubbling, rolling noise, like a liquid purr. Sometimes it sounds almost human - the first night she yowled, I thought I was hearing someone calling "Owen, Owen" (nephew's name) from next door. Even now it sounds like she's trying to say something, like you're hearing vowels and consonants rather than her normal meow.
For some reason, Iffy likes to do her yowling in the corridor, just like Patch did when she was on heat - perhaps the echoes make them sound louder to themselves, and instinctively they want to sound louder. She also does it at night, at odd hours throughout the night, all night. This has not been good for sleep.
It's a bit sad though: Iffy wanders around the house yowling, but you get the sense she's confused and doesn't know why she's doing this. If you call her name in the middle of a yowl, she stops and looks at you with a puzzled look, as if to say "What was I just doing?".
I feel like the parent of a teenager coming into puberty, except that I wouldn't even know where to start explaining the feline birds and bees to her.
The poor thing's also been generally starved for attention recently, what with me being away on reservists all day and being in no mood with play with her in the evenings. The picture shows Iffy in her typical attention seeking posture - if you're reading, she'll come over and sit on the book. If you're on the computer, she'll sit on the keyboard. Then she gives you that accusing look (cf photo please) that more or less says "You'd rather read than play with me?". I mostly throw her off the book, in the generally direction of K, who always has time to play with her.
The short summary of what this means is this: yowling. Not quite Whitman's barbaric yawp - a more rounded, civilised sound - but just as irritating after a while. She makes the noise with her mouth barely open, muzzle stretched out, a strange bubbling, rolling noise, like a liquid purr. Sometimes it sounds almost human - the first night she yowled, I thought I was hearing someone calling "Owen, Owen" (nephew's name) from next door. Even now it sounds like she's trying to say something, like you're hearing vowels and consonants rather than her normal meow.
For some reason, Iffy likes to do her yowling in the corridor, just like Patch did when she was on heat - perhaps the echoes make them sound louder to themselves, and instinctively they want to sound louder. She also does it at night, at odd hours throughout the night, all night. This has not been good for sleep.
It's a bit sad though: Iffy wanders around the house yowling, but you get the sense she's confused and doesn't know why she's doing this. If you call her name in the middle of a yowl, she stops and looks at you with a puzzled look, as if to say "What was I just doing?".
I feel like the parent of a teenager coming into puberty, except that I wouldn't even know where to start explaining the feline birds and bees to her.
"You stay away from that tomcat now. He's nothing but trouble."
"Yowl ... "
"No, you are not going wandering round the neighbour - you are staying right at home"
"Yowl!"
"NO BUTS. Now go to your room."
"yowl?"
"Now."
The poor thing's also been generally starved for attention recently, what with me being away on reservists all day and being in no mood with play with her in the evenings. The picture shows Iffy in her typical attention seeking posture - if you're reading, she'll come over and sit on the book. If you're on the computer, she'll sit on the keyboard. Then she gives you that accusing look (cf photo please) that more or less says "You'd rather read than play with me?". I mostly throw her off the book, in the generally direction of K, who always has time to play with her.
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