Mental Biscuit

After spending a good 16 hours in my basement office, my feet were stinging cold. When I climbed into bed to continue reading my John Varley novel, I kept being distracted by two things—my feet, of course, and my cat, Biscuit.

I solved the feet problem by nuking one of those gel packs. My feet were then warming up under the covers, but Biscuit was still doing her best to let me know she knew it was bedtime, and that’s when she begins her rituals.

First, it’s blocking my path and mewing, and slithering in and out of my ankles. Then it’s jumping on the bed to await me, still talking in her little kitty voice. She never ceases to be excited when I announce it’s bedtime. Maybe she has a short term memory and forgot that she did the same thing last night and the night before, and on into every previous night since her adoption. I wish i could remain that enthused by something i do every single day of my life.

Regardless, this feline has a screw loose, but that’s usually why I find her so charming. I named her for the incessant biscuit-making she does on any available soft surface. If that’s my chest or my stomach, she’s fine with that. Problem is, she does it for a long long time, and even a tactile person like myself can get a little annoyed by her fervor. I know she can’t help it—I didn’t know that at the time of her adoption, she wasn't yet weaned, but it explains a lot now. Her biscuit-making is an instinctual response—she’s essentially nursing while doing that. I’m afraid this led to her being OCD, though. She has other behaviors that echo this unfulfilled need, though I’ve yet to figure out exactly what they do for her. For instance, she likes to lick plastic sacks. I thought at first it was because there was something delicious spilled on them, but when she did it to all sacks, spilled food or not, I realized she had a plastic sack addiction. I don’t think there are any support groups for that. At least not for cats. I wouldn't be surprised if there were some for people who like to lick sacks. Stranger groups have formed.

Biscuit also likes to lay on the top of the recliner, her legs dangling on either side (see photographic illustration). I think she might also have Borderline Personality Disorder…(I’ve always thought that label was misleading…it’s like “I almost have a personalty, but not quite…I’m right on the border…”) anyway, I think she might be BPD, because she gets all up in my fruit loops all the time, but when I try to pet her, she pulls away. She’s better about that than she used to be, but really—when I’m trying to type, she does a little waltz across the desk in front of me, careful to use her tail as a feather duster, under my nose, and also as a thing-knocker-over, and once when I had a candle on the desk--to my momentary horror, she almost allowed her tail to be Keeper of the Flame.

This frequent attention seeking always ends in her escaping too much affection. She wants it but doesn’t want it, at the same time. She also disappears when I have company and doesn’t trust anyone--except me, but only a little. That’s Social Anxiety Disorder. So she has SAD, BPD and OCD. She reminds me of most of my ex-girlfriends.

Mental Biscuit