I love my cat Raven. I really do. He's such a spitfire. But, I'll tell ya, he's also a jerk.
Tiger was the best cat in the world. He was such a lover. You could practically do anything to him, squeeze him with all your might, pull his tail (not me, kids have done this) and he'd still be your BFF. I miss him tremendously. And Spaz is Spaz. Bless his heart.
However, with both Tiger and Spaz, I never had to worry about them eating or destroying my house. Cords could dangle. They didn't care. I could buy flowers and place them everywhere and they'd just stare at them, realize they weren't a juicy steak and then leave them alone.
Speaking of flowers, I love them. I want to display them in my house. Yet, Raven has decided that they are a part of his diet and has proceeded to eat everything in sight.
Case in point? My hydrangeas are now locked in my bathroom. Why? Because they contain cyanide and cyanide is bad. And another reason? Someone thinks they taste delish. Nom nom nom. Jerk.
He once at an azalea before I realized they too are poisonous. I didn't sleep that night, as I monitored his breathing, his digestion, etc. Needless to say he was a ok, I however, was exhausted. Again, jerk.
The hubby and I grew basil. Note the key word grew....
We also grew parsley. I'll tell ya, cats LOVE parsley. Who knew.
Oh, and his newest thing? Thyme. Ugh.
In an effort to be clever, C put red pepper flakes all over the parsley plant to "Raven proof it". Guess what? He loves red pepper flakes. Go figure.
Here's what we've had to do to save our plants....
Although now he's figured out how to pull it open.
So, my question is, can you crate train a cat?
We can try.