This week in particular, Tucker Care has been like going through the rebellious, "mine!" phase that comes with toddlers. I've had him since he was two months old; feeble, no full coat of white and grey bunny hair, and barely enough teeth to eat with. Now, three months later, his tail is puffy and long and he's addicted to wet food like it's crack. I've never seen a cat that whined loudly at me for no reason till him. It's pretty funny.
Today, for example, I got kind of a late start on my day and finally stuffed my laundry in a bag to take downstairs. At the elevators (close to my apartment), I realized I forgot soap and hurried to get it. When I opened the door, Tucker zoomed out into the hall and I yelled after him, dropped my things and caught him at the elevators where he stopped. He'd never done that before. He's tried but stopped immediately outside the door because he got scared.
And what's become a nightly routine--almost every night--are my Tucker Sleepy Holds. When it's very late and I'm exhausted, Tucker is usually at his most hyper. If he's making too much racket, I grab him and hold him on my bed till he calms down (kitty tantrums) and gets tired. He definitely resembles a little kid screaming, "Nooo! I don't wanna gotta bed!" when I have to hold him in one spot.
Although I must say, even though it sounds like I'm complaining, I really, really love taking care of him. He's mine. My kitty who sleeps next to me every single night with his head on the pillow and sometimes I'll wake up with his arm around my neck, who skids onto the counter when I make his food, and who absolutely depends on me for everything. And no one would put up with him as much as I do.
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