The Battle for the Kitchen

PETA is wrong about me. I do not hate animals. I eat them, but I do not hate them. You could even say that I enjoy them very much—especially with BBQ sauce!

There are certain animals I can’t eat, though, and the cat is at the top of the list. Cat lovers often extol the cleanliness and virtues of their feline companions, exclaiming, “They are such clean animals!”

They lick their own butts. Enough said.

Cleanliness notwithstanding, I have no personal grudge against cats and have always been willing to let them live their lives in liberty and the pursuit of happiness. At least, I was until last month, when I became the unwitting victim of a diabolic feline scheme to wreck my peace of mind.

My new room-mate is the proud owner of two cats—Scam and Con. I, not being familiar with cats at all, researched their behavior on the internet. I wanted to know what they like to eat, what makes them happy, and—most importantly—what keeps them away! I found a wealth of information on keeping cats away, which I utilized immediately.

According to the Almighty World Wide Web, cats are repulsed by the scent of citrus and can not come near orange peels. Al Gore is the founder and master of the Almighty World Wide Web, so how could it be wrong? I rushed to Wal-Mart and stocked up on citrus-scented cleaning supplies. My intent was to make the kitchen so citrusy that Scam and Con could not approach to scatter cat hair in the vicinity of the people food. I have a horror of cats in a kitchen.

I cleaned the floor and started polishing it with Orange-On. To me, this translated as “Cat-Be-Gone!” Unblinking, they observed my toil for a while before traipsing onto the polished floor and skating across it like some four-legged Sonja Heine!

I hated to part with my hard-earned cash, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I went to the Happy Pet Shop and purchased an eleven-dollar spray bottle of “Cat-Away.” It contains a blend of herbs that cats find especially repulsive. I felt kind of cruel and guilty for making life so unpleasant for these mute beasts, but my guilt vanished when I arrived home and discovered that Con had been playing in the cold fireplace and tracked ashes all over my fresh Orange-On floor! This meant war! I unleashed my eleven-dollar weapon of mass repulsion and sprayed down everything in the kitchen.

Scam and Con followed me through the kitchen and watched me soak the cabinets with Cat-Away. Apparently, it would take a few moments for the scent of the herbs to reach their tiny kitty noses and send them screeching away.

Con, the more agile of the two, leapt onto the cabinet to sniff the bottle. I held my breath—anticipating his violent reaction.

"Not bad", he seemed to say,"A tad too minty for my taste, but delightful, nonetheless."

It was time to wield the deadliest weapon—pepper! According to the Almighty World Wide Web, cats are not only repulsed by pepper, but it irritates their sensitive skin. I was not aware that cats had sensitive skin, since I have never seen one rubbing its legs with Jergens after a shave. It was worth a try.

I sprinkled a little pepper near the cabinets and left for work. When I returned, Scam was lying in it. Was this the kitty version of self-flagellation? Had Scam committed some grievous sin which required atonement?

She probably had, but I doubt her conscience bothered her too much about it.

I did the only thing an intelligent, capable woman can do when matching wits against two fuzz balls with brains the size of peanuts.

I gave up.

The good news is, once I surrendered, Scam and Con never again exhibited the slightest inclination to go near the cabinets or hang out in the kitchen. They sun themselves endlessly in the big, bay window in the living room, hidden from view by the heavy drapes. It’s almost as though they realize they got the best of me, so they don’t need to flaunt their victory.

Almost.