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Milla has chewed and scratched cables of all sorts and did not seem particularly bothered by a bitter spray designed to discourage at least the chewing part of that behavior after I experimentally applied it to the power cable for a fan I have sometimes kept in my hallway. I have not yet applied it to all cables she can reach because there are so many of them; I was hoping a prominent example might be enough. Clearly, I should have applied it the the dangling antenna cable of my remote-control helicopter because she chewed right through that. And cables are not the only thing she has taken to chewing—just the most common. Thus far, she has evaded electrocution, although from stories of my sister-in-law's cat, even that might not stop her.
Milla also chews the tips of the antennae protruding from my network router. Didn't I apply some of the bitter spray to those too already? I do not recall—I might have—but I definitely will now. She scratches at my bed, tearing up both the sides and the bottom of the box spring. She attacks me, of course, both through my bedding and directly. Almost anything of mine that moves or dangles or otherwise interests her and which she can fit in her mouth—whether wholly or partially—she chews on, including my fingers, hands, and wrists. And some of the things on which she doesn't chew she still swats at and pounces on.
One time, I made the triple mistakes of leaving the bathroom doors open, not shooing Milla away when she strolled in, and losing track of what she was doing and my lack of vigilance was rewarded with a swat to my left testicle. Thankfully, it was apparently an exploratory swat as Milla's claws did not break my skin that time.
All of that is naughty behavior for a kitten, but this morning, Milla crossed a new line, rather severely chewing a corner of a book that is not even mine—Kristen Pollock's hard-bound edition of "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix", which I had left sitting atop my bed when I fell asleep after reading some of it. I am not sure if she chewed it while I slept, but from the wetness of the corner, she definitely seemed to have chewed it while I was out of the room answering a call from a telespammer. Naughty, naughty, naughty kitty!
This latest incident of feline vandalism resulted in a visit from the spray bottle, some very light nose-taps with the chewed book to emphasize the association between Milla's offense and my response, being moved outside my bedroom, having the doors thereof closed to her for the first time since she started living here, and some lingering annoyance. Chewing on my possessions is one thing—even chewing on one of my own books might not have seemed quite as bad (although still bad, of course)—but chewing on a hard-bound book that belongs to another person and not only that, but a person who happens to be one of the best friends I have ever had and very dear to me, is quite another.
Perhaps I should eat Milla for lunch.
