kitty psychoanalysis

Written sometime last summer.

When some lifestyle changes became inevitable for his human family, Figaro had been forced to become an indoor cat. Having spent half of his life - his formative years, in fact - as an outdoor suburban creature, I'd like to think he has adjusted pretty well.

Three years ago, at the height of his sexual prime, he survived: 3 moves in a span of 3 months, a neutering surgery, learning to use the litter box, staring outside windows, living in a highrise, being home alone during the day most of the time, being in the company of toys, and thereafter, 3-hour trips to and from Lucena about 3 times a year on major holidays. A lot of changes, yes, but as far as I knew, he never really had many friends among his own species in the first place - he always had more affinity with humans than cats - so I perceived all of these to be mainly environmental uprooting rather than of relationships. Anyway since then, he's always had enough quality time in the company of his favorite people.

Figaro, 2005. First high-rise window.

We also make those vacations in the province worthwhile for him by letting him live his former outdoor life for as long as he wants, until it's time to get into the travel cage and drive off to Makati. Who knows, he may have left an old girlfriend brokenhearted and may still want to hang out with her platonically. Or he may want to befriend his former rival toms now that he is no longer a sexual threat to them. He may tell them tales of city living, overlooking building constructions, elevators, the sound of trains, the long drives. But most importantly, we don't want him to miss out on what makes a cat a cat. A wild hunter, stalking its prey, aiming for an impeccable kill. And real prey, too, not just his defenseless polyester friends (or my feet). Even if he lost his, well, balls, he shouldn't feel powerless. He needs his self-esteem all the more. Not to mention some physical exercise.

From Christmas vacation, I left him in the province with Mom until I brought him back in Easter. That was over 3 months. I had hoped his habit of tease-biting humans as part of his play-hunting would abate now that he's had enough of the real thing. But I'm starting to notice it's gotten worse. If before, he would only be happy with one bite at the back of my leg while I brush my teeth, now he won't be satisfied until he practically chews on it. He doesn't even run like mad after to avoid my screaming and retaliation, he'd stay for the challenge of trying to bite my leg while I'm facing him. Before, he would only bite me in my sleep when he desperately needs something, now, he does it for no reason. And more often.

Could it be that the longer he's allowed to enjoy it, the more Figaro missed the outdoors when it was time to go back? Is it just mid-life crisis kicking off? Is it something his drinking buddies suggested he tries for fun? Or is it just him - trademark Figaro behavior he's always displayed since his kitten days - hates to be carried but derives sadistic satisfaction when his humans, by default, play pretend-prey. Though he does a good job holding his bladder when his litter box is inaccessible, we've just never been able to teach him a lesson in restraint this way. In a way, it's charming - the cat that doesn't have to make a show out of being sweet and adorable.

Whatever it is, I just hope it's not a sign of loneliness. 'Cause I would just hate that.