When I adopted Priscilla, I was 12 weeks old. It was very small and sweet. She packed my bag, and I brought that home. When my head came out so I could breathe, I thought it was a little bundle of joy. And for the most part, it was.
Prissy, as I call her, wasn’t properly welded from her mother’s milk, so when I brought her home, she couldn’t eat or drink. I gave him milk through a straw.
Within a few hours, I was alone. She could also drink alone.
She was the usual playful kitten, but because she was so young and small, she was slightly tired. One day, while playing with my finger, he fell asleep in the middle of the season. He slept in my chest for a few hours.
My older cat, Pooka, taught him how to clean, sit and use the sandbox. Pooka treated Prissy as if she were her own kitten from the beginning.
While I was cooking dinner one evening, I had to leave it alone on the stove for a few minutes. When I came back, Prissy was on the stove, along with the pan, and licked himself while he was cooking.
I pulled her off the stove as soon as I found her while I told her not to do it again. Of course, she had to learn herself as a very independent kitten. And it came to pass when he put his paws in a hot oven. He jumped down quickly and never got close to the mountains again.
I’m going to notice something Priscilla regularly did. He liked running errands indoors, but he was never happy to stop when he came to a wall. No, I climbed the walls, almost up, before I had to go down.
Although she scratched stalls in various places around the house, she found the scratching of furniture in her favorite time. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t stop him from using the furniture to sharpen his claws.
At that time, Pooka was eight years old, and it went pretty well. Oh, she also went through her “two terrible.” When I adopted Pooka, I took her home to a friend. At the age of 6 months, he put my friend’s cats in place and then climbed the rock from the river above the chimney.
Pooka also liked to climb the screens like a kitten. I lived in Florida at the time and lived on the fifth floor in a condominium. Another of his habits for his freshman year was sucking my ear. She sucked it raw. This stopped almost immediately after she was one year old.
Fast forward a few years ago, and Prissy was still very kitten-like in his behavior. She scratched the furniture while I watched. I said no to her, and she looked at me as if I was saying something.
He was in all sorts of troubles. She discovered carpets trying to get into the rooms that were closed to her. The hallway was chaotic when we left this apartment.
I often thought Prissy would never calm down.
In November 2015, we moved to Spain. Pooka and Prissy have had the careers of our outdoor facilities. It is a small complex with very little car traffic. They are sure to get out of here. They have a pet door and can come and go at will.
Prissy went outside. This time, however, because now you can go whenever you want, you no longer have claws on furniture or walls. It doesn’t go up to the walls because it has a lot of space to run. I rarely have to say “no” more. It’s a changed cat.
The answer: It’s free. Prissy is no longer bored. So, yes, the answer is that cats get bored.