Hello peoples of the internet. This is Obi. I want to tell you how awesome my brother is. He’s a hero!
As you know, our Boy and Girl brought home a people-kitten a few weeks ago. Oliver and I have adjusted to the added responsibility but managing three humans is a lot of work.
Usually Squeak is with either The Boy or The Girl, but sometimes they leave him to sleep in his cage in our room. Then they lock him in by shutting the door. In the daytime, Oliver and I take turns supervising from the box in the hallway. We also supervise from this position when The Girl feeds Squeak at night.
Side note: Oliver and I have had a lot of talks about this and could someone tell him he is NOT a people? He thinks he is because The Girl fed him from a bottle, just like they feed Squeak. But I say maybe Squeak is half cat, because he eats from his mom as well – just like I did with my mom when I was a kitten. Oli doesn’t remember having a mom, other than The Girl, so maybe he’s right.
But I don’t think so.
When the people are in bed, I supervise on the main floor while Oliver snuggles with The Girl to get her settled in bed. Sometimes I take the whole first shift so he can get some sleep – he’s getting kind of old and he’s been sleeping more since all those doctor appointments last fall.
Sometimes he takes his shift supervising and naps on the steps so he can hear The Girl and Squeak at the same time. That, folks, is a master supervisor.
Last night, we both happened to be supervising. And Squeak started to talk about his middle of the night snack. Then he started to cry.
This is usually when The Girl arrives. She has a tiny box she carries around that lets Squeak talk to her when they aren’t in the same room. Her ears aren’t as good as ours (seriously, people are practically deaf. How do you get by?)
Squeak cried some more
Squeak’s cry went from a call to a panicked howl.
I asked Oliver what we could do. The door was closed so we couldn’t help our baby. The Girl’s talky box obviously wasn’t working. The fans upstairs were covering up Squeak’s cry (again, people are deaf).
He nodded to me and said “a lifetime if training is about to pay off.” Then he led me upstairs.
He jumped into bed and head-butted The Girl. Then he did it again, hard. She scritched his head and pulled him close for a snuggle without opening her eyes. He didn’t give in for a second. He pushed out of her arms and went in again. First with another head-butt. Then he put his nose on her lips and shoved his face into her mouth like a wedge.
This move is usually reserved as the final move after hours of trying to wake The Girl for breakfast because it always works but she’s not very happy when she wakes up. Like, really not happy. But this was for our baby and there was no time to lose.
The Girl spluttered awake and glared at Oliver. But we could tell she could almost hear Squeak over the fans. Like lightning her hand flew to the talky box, which was dark and quiet.
“Oh no!” she yelled and leapt, almost cat-like I want to say, out of bed. She barely touched the floor on her way to Squeak.
It took a couple minutes for us all to calm down. I got in my up high supervising spot and Oliver stood by the chair and performed a Cat Scan on the baby while he ate. Other than raised heart rates, he said, both of the peoples were fine.
After a while, Squeak went back to sleep. But I wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was Oli. Neither was The Girl.
She thanked Oliver for his heroic deed with breakfast, then treats, then a snuggle and hundreds of kisses. Which is fine if you like that sort of thing. And he does.
I was happy with breakfast.
I asked Oliver how he knew to go directly for the face wedge. He looked at me incredulously. “We do the wake up drill every single morning.
“You thought that was about breakfast?”
Well yes, yes did.
Maybe Oliver isn’t such a pudding head after all.