In an effort to keep the cats off of our kitchen counters, and after trying numerous products and a variety of methods, we hit upon one that is a sure-fire success.
Foil! Yes, sheets of aluminum foil.
It’s cheaper, easier, and handier than anything we’ve tried, except maybe for the spray bottle filled with water we keep on the counter. (Though the spray bottle had little effect in keeping them off.)
It is simple. Just place a sheet of foil on top of each counter area you do not want them to walk on. (I covered all of our kitchen counters as I do not appreciate cat hair on a counter where I prepare our food.) Most cats do not like the feel of the foil under their paws and will try anything to avoid stepping on it. So make sure you choose foil that is wide enough to prevent them from walking around the edges of it.
We also discovered that cats do not like the sound of foil being shaken. It bothers their ears and most will run from the sound. Hunter and Calypso ran from the room when I was moving the foil to a different area.
Since it worked so well keeping the cats off of our counters, I decided to put it to the test under our Christmas tree. I wrinkled each piece up a bit and placed it around the tree. The two cats immediately had to come and inspect it. Hunter gingerly put out his paw to check and see what it was. Upon contact, he drew back his paw, turned around, and with tail high in the air, he trotted off. Calypso decided this was not for her and followed after him. Later Hunter tried again to see if he could sneak around and lay down under the tree. No such luck. He finally left in frustration. Now he sleeps nearby, but leaves the tree alone.
It may not be a “pretty “solution, but it works. So if you’re having problems with your cats, --- counters, Christmas tree, or whatever, --- give it a try and see how it “foils” their efforts.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
New guest blogger: Special K
Last night, my husband and I were sitting in the living room, watching TV. I happened to look over just in time to see our kitten walking across the living room. (Is ‘walking’ really the right term for what a cat does? It sounds a little too bourgeois, somehow…)
Anyway, our little girl calmly strutted over to where the dog was lounging on the sofa (his head lolled over the side of the cushion, looking too much like a lower-life-form for her taste, apparently), sidled up as if she was going to rub along the edge of said sofa, then pounced straight into the air, launching a two-second, crazy-paw attack on the poor guy’s face. As our 60-pound black lab sat up, bewilderment etched all over his still-sleepy features, our 5-pound kitten pranced away, trailing smugness like a royal robe.
“Mission accomplished.”
Actually, this was one of Patches’ more focused efforts of the night. Usually it doesn’t seem like her insanity has any goal whatsoever.
About five minutes after the “dog incident”, there she came again, sauntering across the living room. My husband watched until she got right in front of him, then stuck his foot out with a sharp hisssss. If you’re wondering, this occurs nightly… hubby vs. the cat. The cat always acts like it’s the first time he’s pulled this trick; hubby always laughs like he’s never seen her reaction. Sigh…
Come to think of it, he has a lot of fun giving that cat grief. Our sofa and loveseat are set at right angles to each other, with plenty of room to walk between. Patches used to love getting herself all wound up, and then go racing around in circles—jump up on the loveseat, run across the back, jump off the arm, land on the arm of the other, go racing across the back of the sofa, onto the ground, beeline for the loveseat, repeat.
One night, my husband was sitting in his usual spot—right in the corner by the arm that Patches lands on—when she started going into her frenzied one-kitten routine. She made one round, then came around for lap number two. Racing across the back of the loveseat in a blur of fur, she sprang across the gap between the sofas… and ran headfirst into what my husband tells me is termed a “stiff-arm”. My husband had put up his hand at the exact right moment, exact right height, and she slammed into it like a fly hitting a windshield. I’m surprised dear hubby didn’t pop something, he was laughing so hard. Her look of utter disdain and then apparent lack of concern as she started preening herself were pretty funny though.
It happened the next night too. After that, much to hubby’s chagrin, Patches now refuses to jump over that gap, no matter how much someone coaxes or bribes. She just looks at you like “what do you think I am, stupid?” and goes via floor instead.
Of course, don’t get me wrong: hubby and that cat have something special going on. (Don’t let him know I told you though, he’s got this whole “I’m a dog-lover” thing he wants John Q. Public to see.) But guess whose lap little kitty curls up in when she’s done batting at the dogs or chasing... whatever it is that only she can see on the floor? Guess who loves to rub her until she’s purring louder than an outboard motor? Those two were made for each other.
Speaking of love, guess who else kitty curls up with, when hubby’s lap isn’t available? It’s amazing that huge dog never crushes her! Maybe last night she was just annoyed that he was sleeping when she wanted to play.
Anyway, our little girl calmly strutted over to where the dog was lounging on the sofa (his head lolled over the side of the cushion, looking too much like a lower-life-form for her taste, apparently), sidled up as if she was going to rub along the edge of said sofa, then pounced straight into the air, launching a two-second, crazy-paw attack on the poor guy’s face. As our 60-pound black lab sat up, bewilderment etched all over his still-sleepy features, our 5-pound kitten pranced away, trailing smugness like a royal robe.
“Mission accomplished.”
Actually, this was one of Patches’ more focused efforts of the night. Usually it doesn’t seem like her insanity has any goal whatsoever.
About five minutes after the “dog incident”, there she came again, sauntering across the living room. My husband watched until she got right in front of him, then stuck his foot out with a sharp hisssss. If you’re wondering, this occurs nightly… hubby vs. the cat. The cat always acts like it’s the first time he’s pulled this trick; hubby always laughs like he’s never seen her reaction. Sigh…
Come to think of it, he has a lot of fun giving that cat grief. Our sofa and loveseat are set at right angles to each other, with plenty of room to walk between. Patches used to love getting herself all wound up, and then go racing around in circles—jump up on the loveseat, run across the back, jump off the arm, land on the arm of the other, go racing across the back of the sofa, onto the ground, beeline for the loveseat, repeat.
One night, my husband was sitting in his usual spot—right in the corner by the arm that Patches lands on—when she started going into her frenzied one-kitten routine. She made one round, then came around for lap number two. Racing across the back of the loveseat in a blur of fur, she sprang across the gap between the sofas… and ran headfirst into what my husband tells me is termed a “stiff-arm”. My husband had put up his hand at the exact right moment, exact right height, and she slammed into it like a fly hitting a windshield. I’m surprised dear hubby didn’t pop something, he was laughing so hard. Her look of utter disdain and then apparent lack of concern as she started preening herself were pretty funny though.
It happened the next night too. After that, much to hubby’s chagrin, Patches now refuses to jump over that gap, no matter how much someone coaxes or bribes. She just looks at you like “what do you think I am, stupid?” and goes via floor instead.
Of course, don’t get me wrong: hubby and that cat have something special going on. (Don’t let him know I told you though, he’s got this whole “I’m a dog-lover” thing he wants John Q. Public to see.) But guess whose lap little kitty curls up in when she’s done batting at the dogs or chasing... whatever it is that only she can see on the floor? Guess who loves to rub her until she’s purring louder than an outboard motor? Those two were made for each other.
Speaking of love, guess who else kitty curls up with, when hubby’s lap isn’t available? It’s amazing that huge dog never crushes her! Maybe last night she was just annoyed that he was sleeping when she wanted to play.
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