THE ONLY WAY TO CATCH HIM IS GRAB HIM BY THE TAIL (THE CAT, NOT ALAN) WHEN HE SLOWS DOWN

Trying to control a cat is almost impossible. Trying to control a big hateful cat is totally impossible.

I have insisted that Pepper is going to be an inside cat. Pepper's attitude is "The hell I am". I'm quickly losing the  argument.

The problem is my ex, who has alzheimer's and I signed on as his caretaker. He just can't remember to shut the cat up before he opens a door. The cat remembers. This happens several times a day.

If I don't see it happen, the only way I know the cat is missing is to finally see him chasing butterflies in my herb bed or see Alan zipping past my sunroom, trying to chase Pepper around the house. The cat can shoot past Alan so quickly that he doesn't even realize or remember the cat got out. It's like a three-ring circus trying to control both of them at the same time.

Two kittens playing chase is amusing and will make your whole day brighter. Watching Alan and the cat playing chase several times a day is enough to screw up the whole week.  The only way I can catch the little snot is to grab him by his tail  (the cat, not Alan) when he finally slows down for a minute.

So far he's been content to stay in the yard and chase butterflies and grasshoppers. I'm afraid he'll decide to explore the woods and get himself in trouble.

He's still rolling over on command, but now, when he wants a snack, he grabs my arm, pulls it over and flops over on his back while throwing his head on my hand so he doesn't bang his head on the desk.

Pepper is coming up on his second birthday this coming June. He's starting to lose some of that wild streak. He's calming down a little, but I'm really looking forward to him maturing a little more.

Measured him a few weeks ago when I caught him stretched out on the floor. I mismeasured, measuring from tip of tail to tip of front feet. The correct way to measure your cat's length is tip of tail to the tip of the nose. He's about 36 inches long. Cat's wait to get him to the vet and weigh him. He's very muscular and heavy. I believe I already mentioned he's hateful.

It all becomes forgivable though when he jumps up, pulls my hand over and wants to hold hands because we're friends.

QUICKLY LOSING BATTLE TO MAKE PEPPER AN INSIDE CAT.

Trying to control a cat is almost impossible. Trying to control a big hateful cat is totally impossible.

I have insisted that Pepper is going to be an inside cat. Pepper's attitude is "The hell I am". I'm quickly losing the  argument.

The problem is my ex, who has alzheimer's and I signed on as his caretaker. He just can't remember to shut the cat up before he opens a door. The cat remembers. This happens several times a day.

If I don't see it happen, the only way I know the cat is missing is to finally see him chasing butterflies in my herb bed or see Alan zipping past my sun room, trying to chase Pepper around the house. The cat can shoot past Alan so quickly that he doesn't even realize or remember the cat got out. It's like a three-ring circus trying to control both of them at the same time. It's like trying to corral mice.

Two kittens playing chase is amusing and will make your whole day brighter. Watching Alan and the cat playing chase several times a day is enough to screw up the whole week.  The only way I can catch the little snot is to grab him by his tail  (the cat, not Alan) when he finally slows down for a minute.

So far he's been content to stay in the yard and chase butterflies and grasshoppers. I'm afraid he'll decide to explore the woods and get himself in trouble.

He's still rolling over on command, but now, when he wants a snack, he grabs my arm, pulls it over and flops over on his back while throwing his head on my hand so he doesn't bang his head on the desk.

Pepper is coming up on his second birthday this coming June. He's starting to lose some of that wild streak. He's calming down a little, but I'm really looking forward to him maturing a little more.

Measured him a few weeks ago when I caught him stretched out on the floor. I mis-measured, measuring from tip of tail to tip of front feet. The correct way to measure your cat's length is tip of tail to the tip of the nose. He's about 36 inches long. Can't wait to get him to the vet and weigh him. He's very muscular and heavy. I believe I already mentioned he's hateful.

It all becomes forgivable though when he jumps up, pulls my hand over and wants to hold hands because we're friends.

PEPPER NOW A BIG BULLY

My tiny terror, Pepper, has now become a big bully. He keeps Alan scared to even pet him, which seems to suit the cat just fine.

However, I'm still trainable, so he has me trained just like he wants me.

I decided Pepper wasn't getting enough exercise, since he was supposed to be an inside cat only. Since Maine coons are more dog-like than like cats, I decided to train him a little. He will do almost anything to get a "snack".  His favorite place to plant himself is in front of the television while we're trying to watch a show.

I started training him to lay down with either voice command or hand signals. So far, so good. Now we've graduated to rolling over on command, this time by hand signals. I just can't seem to now convince him he's supposed to wait until I signal before he shows off for a snack.

While I'm trying to blog, he spends his time jumping on the desk and throwing himself over on his back. He throws himself so hard, you can hear his little head go "thunk" when it hits the wooden desk.  Maine Coons are natural clowns, so he does it over and over. I swear he's going to eventually have brain damage.

If I attempt to start ignoring him, he bites. In his defense, he removes his teeth from the holes in my hand on the loud screaming voice command "DON'T BITE MAMA!". He then lays his little head on my left hand that is trying to type, reaches over and pats me with his little paw to comfort me and con me into thinking he loves me, and goes sound asleep.

PEPPER THE TINY TERROR LEARNS HIS FIRST CUSS WORD

I've written about how my first Maine Coon had learned to talk, would holler "Mama, Mama" whenever he wanted me or couldn't find me. I had worked hard teaching him to say that. But the rest of his vocabulary he picked up by just repeating what he heard us say.

I decided to try and teach Pepper the tiny terror to say "mama". I worked and I worked. Finally I decided it wasn't worth the effort. He had said it twice and then never again. He's about 18 months old now and I had decided he just wasn't as smart as Oscar had been.

I've also written about him grabbing us by the leg and biting whenever we walk through the room. Its his favorite game. Unfortunately, Alan always screams "S--T, STOP IT!"

I had a friend here one day. We were visiting in the sunroom. All of a sudden I heard, "S--T!" coming from the direction of the litter box. My eyes flew wide open with a shocked look as I turned in time to see the same wide-eyed shocked look on my friend's face.

"What did he just say?" I whispered.
She whispered back, "He just said S--T!"
"That's what I was afraid of," I sighed.

We both looked at the litter box, where Pepper was still working hard trying to get the litter off of his feet. He wiped them on the edge of the box, on the carpet, back in the box, finally wiping his foot on the sliding glass door, where he once again screamed "S--T!" We both collapsed laughing this time because it was loud and clear.

I am no longer trying to teach him to talk. I do not need a bad-tempered cat who cusses like a parrot sailor.

PEPPER STEPPED UP THE GAME

One thing about Maine Coons, there's never a dull moment in the house. They are constantly coming up with something new to amuse themselves.

I've had a problem with Pepper waking me up in the morning, always about an hour before I want to get up. His pattern has been to "trill" at me a couple of times. If that doesn't work, he attacks my hands.

I started covering my hands up with the covers so he couldn't shred them and go away.

Not to be outdone, he started getting on the side table and flying through the air, landing on the other side of my head, causing the bed to shake. I finally decided to ignore that, and would just lay there with my eyes closed as his tummy hair dragged across my face.

Another thing about Maine Coons, if you step up the game, they're delighted. They're experts at thinking of new things to do to you.

I felt him get on the side table, so, eyes closed, I braced myself for the tummy hair. I was NOT braced for his whole heavy tummy to land square across my face and just lay there.  Since I didn't react I felt him climb on the table again. This time he jumped higher and landed heavier, square on straddling my head and face.

Needless to say I finally gave up because it's hard to pretend to still be asleep when you're laying there with a heavy cat across your face and you can't breath because you're laughing.

Score: Cat 1   Mom zip

TINY TERROR TURNS INTO KING COON CAT

Having a little fur ball who is damned and determined to be alpha of the whole house is not easy. I know people who think it's all right to swat their cats with a newspaper to discipline them. I AM NOT ONE OF THEM.

But this cat was different from anything I'd ever had to deal with. Honestly, if you even glared at him with a disapproving look, his ears would lay flat, his little fuzzy butt would start to wiggle, and you would have blood dripping down your arm or leg. He was a mean little critter. He did like to be rocked for about 30 minutes and cuddled first thing in the morning and having his little face rubbed. But the rest of the day was chaos.

People have said "I'd get rid of him." Not me. I was as determined to be alpha-mama as he was to be alpha-cat. The game was on.

Finally, I discovered the perfect defense. I had to carry a large squirt bottle with me every time I walked across the floor. This turned into a great game. Kittens love to play chase and I would chase him with the squirt bottle. He was getting exercise which was calming him down for awhile and my leg wasn't bleeding.

Things began to change when I discovered that cats have a language they convey with facial expressions. When you looked him square in the eye with that disapproving look, you had just challenged him to a fight. If you're blinking fast, you're showing you don't trust him and he won't trust you either.

I began to look him in the eye and then slowly close and open my eyes one time. At first he looked at me like "Are you kidding me!" I began to refer to it as a "lovey face". He began to respond with the lovey face.

Then I bought some Whiskas Temptations kitty snacks and started using them as rewards for good behavior. Good behavior in this case means lay down and stop standing in front of the stupid television so we can see it.

No longer do I get attacked on the way to bed because guard cat now knows he'll get a little bedtime snack right before I lay down.  I no longer get attacked on the way to the kitchen to get my morning coffee.

But there is one thing alpha-cat has refused to give up. Whenever I head to the sunroom, where I spend all my time, he runs full speed ahead, gets in front of me, slows down and pulls himself up with every bit of dignity he can muster and slowly leads me through two rooms and to my desk chair. And I let him because it's so obvious he wants to be King Coon Cat, and lead the parade.  Well hey, it is Mardi Gras.

I PAID A SMALL FORTUNE FOR A NASTY TEMPERED REGISTERED BUZZ SAW!

I've never had a pet I didn't get attached to but none like my relationship with Oscar.

When he died, I couldn't sleep because he wasn't purring in my ear. I didn't want to come home from work, because the house felt a complete emptiness I had never experienced before. I was just terribly depressed. Finally I decided the only cure was another Maine Coon.

I wasn't able to find a young one to rescue so I ultimately found a breeder and paid a small fortune for what was supposed to be a little ball of fur who would cuddle at night and purr in my ear, putting me to sleep. I was going to be able to reach over and gently pet him when I awoke in the night and go right back to sleep.

I came home with the high-priced little guy and two hours later my then-husband walked in and said "I got fired". I was stunned. Here I had just irrationally paid way too much for a tiny cat and our income just got cut in half.  I didn't know whether to throw up on the cat or search for a recipe on the internet for tiny fried cat.

After deciding the cat must live, I set about cuddling, rocking, and loving on the little guy. The more I loved on him, the more hateful he became. I'm totally opposed to playing rough with a kitten, because it can cause a mean cat. So I didn't do that. He had plenty of toys.

But from the start, Pepper was a tiny terror. His favorite games seemed to all include making my arms or legs bleed profusely. The more he bit and scratched, the  more I became determined to tame him down.

It's time for his yearly checkup next week. I don't know what he weighs but he's getting to be a big boy. I'm now trying to train him with snacks as a reward. It works unless he's doing something he thinks should be showing me he's a good boy. If I don't notice, he walks up and bites me.

His favorite game is flying out the door before Alan can stop him and then making Alan chase him. Then he hides under the deck where Alan can't reach him.

Pepper does have a sense of humor. One day Alan was going around and around the outside of the house calling at the top of his lungs "COME HERE PEPPER!"

The third time I saw Alan go by my sunroom, here came Pepper, following about 7 feet behind him. Alan made a fourth round and came by my sunroom still calling the cat. And there was Pepper still following him around because Alan never looked behind him. It was obvious Pepper was playing a joke on Alan.

Another of Pepper's favorite games is his version of football. He waits until he can catch Alan go through and then runs and tackles Alan, wrapping both front feet around one of his legs. This is sometimes accompanied by a quick tasty bite of Alan's leg.

He is truly a little terror who apparently thinks he's half buzz saw. He also has a nasty temper. I'm hoping he gets calmer as he ages but at this point, I wouldn't lay money on it.