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12:28pm October 6, 2014
Cat-Proofing my Feet So I’d been sleeping with my shoes on, but that was getting uncomfortable.  I have new sympathy for my father – there was a period of my adolescence that I’m less than proud of, where I was always trying to run away from the house, day or night. So my dad slept in his running shoes, figuring he’d need them to catch up to me if I got past him and took off running.  He was right. Between my disregard for pain, my tendency to head-butt my way past him in the hall, and my adrenaline-fueled running speed, it took a lot out of him to catch me (despite him being a seasoned runner and me having no particular athletic training), and the shoes were useful.  I think of things like this when I think “Wow, I wouldn’t want to raise me.”  But apparently to both my parents I was worth it even when I was doing stuff like thatl Anyway sleeping in shoes, never taking them off day or night, gets uncomfortable.  It cat-proofs your feet, but at a cost. So I’m trying the next best thing:  Knitted slippers.  I never use these things, they’re a weird shade of purple that I don’t like to wear.  But they’re very comfortable.  It’s basically a cable-knitted tube, attached to some knobbly soles with yarn.  Very comfortable, but very purple nonetheless.  But almost perfect for my objective here. Almost perfect?  Neither the denim on my jeans, nor the thick knit fabric of my slippers, actually fully deflect cat teeth.  Denim is uncomfortable for her to bite through – when I wear denim, I see her sizing me up before a bite to figure out whether it’s worth the discomfort to bite me.  It depends on how mad she is, whether she feels it’s worth it.  And the socks are less sturdy than the denim of m jeans.  She can bite through them and cause serious pain. But. The point is a psychological effect on her. She sees that my skin is totally covered. She sizes up the fabrics and notices that the silpper fabric is flimsy enough to bite through. She bites through the slippers. I don’t react. She bites harder. I don’t react. She bites as hard as she can. I don’t react. She starts growling and grumbling to herself, but she quits biting.  By not react, I mean:  I don’t flinch, I don’t make a sound, I don’t stop whatever I’m doing, I don’t do anything to show her that she’s getting a reaction.  No, this is not about “reinforcement”.  She’s not a lab rat.  This is about showing her that my slippers are tougher than she thinks:  She tries to bite through them and gets no reaction at all.  So she thinks that she’s not actually injuring me, and decides the socks aren’t worth the trouble of biting through. Which leaves her with the option of walking around grumbling and harrumphing and being a grumpy stick, but less biting and scratching of my feet and legs.  I still have to figure out why she’s pissed off, but it’s much easier when she’s not attacking me every few seconds.

Cat-Proofing my Feet

So I’d been sleeping with my shoes on, but that was getting uncomfortable.  I have new sympathy for my father – there was a period of my adolescence that I’m less than proud of, where I was always trying to run away from the house, day or night. So my dad slept in his running shoes, figuring he’d need them to catch up to me if I got past him and took off running.  He was right. Between my disregard for pain, my tendency to head-butt my way past him in the hall, and my adrenaline-fueled running speed, it took a lot out of him to catch me (despite him being a seasoned runner and me having no particular athletic training), and the shoes were useful.  I think of things like this when I think “Wow, I wouldn’t want to raise me.”  But apparently to both my parents I was worth it even when I was doing stuff like thatl

Anyway sleeping in shoes, never taking them off day or night, gets uncomfortable.  It cat-proofs your feet, but at a cost.

So I’m trying the next best thing:  Knitted slippers.  I never use these things, they’re a weird shade of purple that I don’t like to wear.  But they’re very comfortable.  It’s basically a cable-knitted tube, attached to some knobbly soles with yarn.  Very comfortable, but very purple nonetheless.  But almost perfect for my objective here.

Almost perfect?  Neither the denim on my jeans, nor the thick knit fabric of my slippers, actually fully deflect cat teeth.  Denim is uncomfortable for her to bite through – when I wear denim, I see her sizing me up before a bite to figure out whether it’s worth the discomfort to bite me.  It depends on how mad she is, whether she feels it’s worth it.  And the socks are less sturdy than the denim of m jeans.  She can bite through them and cause serious pain.

But.

The point is a psychological effect on her.

She sees that my skin is totally covered.

She sizes up the fabrics and notices that the silpper fabric is flimsy enough to bite through.

She bites through the slippers.

I don’t react.

She bites harder.

I don’t react.

She bites as hard as she can.

I don’t react.

She starts growling and grumbling to herself, but she quits biting.  By not react, I mean:  I don’t flinch, I don’t make a sound, I don’t stop whatever I’m doing, I don’t do anything to show her that she’s getting a reaction.  No, this is not about “reinforcement”.  She’s not a lab rat.  This is about showing her that my slippers are tougher than she thinks:  She tries to bite through them and gets no reaction at all.  So she thinks that she’s not actually injuring me, and decides the socks aren’t worth the trouble of biting through.

Which leaves her with the option of walking around grumbling and harrumphing and being a grumpy stick, but less biting and scratching of my feet and legs.  I still have to figure out why she’s pissed off, but it’s much easier when she’s not attacking me every few seconds.

Notes:
  1. callmemonstrous said: what a grumpy baby
  2. withasmoothroundstone posted this