There’s A Predator In My House Named Cova

On November first, I welcomed a new family member into my home and her name is Cova.

Feel free to awwwwwww

Cova is a cat of (many) personalities; cuddly, snuggly, purr-guly, etc. However, her favorite personality is without a doubt PREDATOR.

Swipe left on this instagram post to see the video of Cova “sneaking up” on me for the kill.

Having Cova has made quite a change to my Bekah-household, party of one. Suddenly, there’s someone to blow a kiss at before I leave to work and a purring roommate running to greet me when I return. The following are four changes I’ve implemented since welcoming a kitten to my home.

#1. No longer BARRELING through the door.

This applies to any door. ANY DOOR. Because, without fail, she will be on the other side, ready to bolt into the unknown.

Upon arriving home, I unlock the front door and brace myself, much like a fireman, test-tapping the knob for heat, adjusting the weight of an ax in my hands, bouncing in my boots twice, rearing up and getting ready for what’s to come, before twisting that knob and accepting a blast of energy.

Opening the door to. . . nothing? No cat? . . . sends me into phase two, a heightened level of awareness where I’m a policeman, sniffing the frigid air, peering around corners, and tip-toeing through the silent apartment, pistol raised, ears perked, ready for the inevitable attack––a perfect segue into my next point.

#2. TREADING CAREFULLY

I can’t find Cova.

Cova does this adorable thing. Truly precious. She will crouch behind the corner of a couch/counter/ottoman/other person. . . and wait.

Upon seeing the desirable ankle, her prey of choice, she will pounce, front legs raised above her head and swinging, kitten belly exposed, (I’m sure if you’re quiet enough, a teeny HIYAAAAA! can be heard). She will sail through the air on invisible wings before painfully crash-tangling herself between two moving legs. The front of her body will twist forward with the motion of one leg, the back of her body will fold back against the second leg and she will slingshot into the wall.

This makes me cringe. So I have begun taking slower strides, for fear her tiny spine will someday horrifically snap between my ankles.

She, on the other hand, seems unaffected by it, due to her multiple attempts at taking me down. Now I sense it’s coming, so I will take a quick step back and watch as a kitten soars past in the most adorable, arms-up, paws-extended manner (at which point, I typically make the HIYAAAA! noise for my own enjoyment and watch as she lands on the carpet and whirls about in a dazedly confused how did that not work, my heart was pure, my aim was true, how did I miss? reaction).

#3. STEPPING LIGHTLY

Snapchat: RebekahKoontz

Very different from TREADING CAREFULLY (due to the unforeseeable attack), stepping lightly has a maternal panic laced through it.

Only pet owners will understand the electroshock of horror that zaps up your leg from stepping on something soft–a paw, a tail– or tripping on a pet completely, followed by your shriek, falling to your knees, and checking the poor creature for broken ribs as it stares up at you, pupils large, as if to say why did you do that, mommy? Was I being bad? It is horrifying.

When I got Cova, she was the size of a pop tart and as silent as a humming bird without wings. She still is. In one moment, she’s exploring the kitchen, sniffing about, the next, she’s beside me on the couch with nothing put a poof and a purr. Much like when Jesus suddenly appeared to the disciples after his resurrection, except without the purr.

I never step down all the way. Ever. The pad of my foot feels for any squish of a body or the soft brush of fur, before allowing my weight to descend. This habit has saved many a tail.

#4. CONSTANT LITTER CLEAN UP

Cova has decided that litter isn’t just for her business. It’s also recreational. Like the gym. She jumps on it, does yoga on it, swims in it.

A fresh layer of litter means GO TIME. DING-DING-DING. Kitten level up. Her pupils widen, her chest puffs, she smacks the knuckles of her boxing gloves together. It’s game time.

I’m pretty sure that the fact that my litter has a “kitten attractant” in it (a.k.a. illegal kitten crack) has something to do with this behavior. Cova periodically goes to the box of litter and smashes her snout into the opening to gnaw the cardboard and take another hit. (But hey, there haven’t been any carpet accidents since I’ve purchased the stuff, so I consider it a win. 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Only problem is the litter explosion. All around the box is a pile of white dust, the ashes of the hearts Cova has stolen with her cuteness, no doubt, and a mess I am constantly having to vacuum.

I’ve never vacuumed so much in my life.

Cova has definitely changed my life. But I can honestly say it’s for the better.

Sure, she cost me a pretty penny. Even though she was only ten dollars to adopt, I was so excited the day that I got her that I forgot to pay my rent and ended up owing a $75 late fee. (Still upset about that. Ooh, don’t get me started.)

However, now that we’ve gotten into a rhythm, both her and I, having a new companion isn’t a lot of work at all.

As long as we don’t scratch/bite/pounce on mom’s nose in her sleep/or all around attack mommy.

As long as we can stop attacking mommy, we’d be ALLLLLL GOOD. *Writes as though Cova can read this blog post and catch the subtle hints*

In all honesty though, I don’t regret her for a second. It’s been two months now and Cova and I are best buds. As I write this, she’s sleeping beside my head, eyes slanted shut the way cats do, laying so still that I checked to make sure she was breathing. (She is.)

This is definitely the start of a lifetime companionship.

And you better believe more cat posts/videos are headed your way.

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