Remember remember my kitty November

See what I did there?

I named the kitten November. There are some photos of her on my phone, but the phone isn't playing nice with the computer right now, so you can't see them. So there!

For the first couple of days she'd either lie on me, lie next to me, or lie on the floor within line of sight. Now she's spending most of her time under the bed, as of yesterday morning. I'm not really sure why.

She isn't grooming herself, and she's kind of bad at the litterbox -- she orients her head in the center of the box, with the result that there are an extremely limited number of ways that she'll hit the litterbox as opposed to the surrounding area (say, my laundry hamper, Jill's other computer, a bag full of cables, et cetera). These two delightful facts combine and make her quite the stinky kitty indeed.

I'm pretty certain now that someone actually was taking care of her before she got out accidentally or got kicked out: I tried to rinse out the poop matting her tail (only a little streak, but still, ew), but as soon as she saw the bathroom sink it was splayed-legs-claws-extended-DO-NOT-WANT. Apparently she knows that bathroom sink = water = bath(?) = unhappiness. I'm going to try to get her more accustomed to water gradually and with conditioning/positive reinforcement, and also convince her to groom herself.

Actually, according to that most great tome of knowledge The Internet, cats dislike water because they think it makes them smell funny. Their saliva, it continues, has an enzyme that destroys odors and makes them smell like "nothing at all."

That's bull. Cats have a very distinct scent, and if our weak human noses can pick it up, then I'm pretty sure a mouse's can too. Or a shark. I bet sharks would smell a cat coming from miles away. Or is it leagues?

One of my roommates, who is responsible for such gems as "Princess Fuzzball Kitten Person," as well as that poor cat's nicknames, "Prinny," "Prinny-boo," and "Prinny Kitty," is trying to nickname November "Millie." Apparently it's from some TV show called Dollhouse. Whatever it's from, it's so not happening (though I guess it's better than "Berry-boo" or something. I don't want to tempt fate by trying to come up with what she'd think up). Every time she tries it, I tell her no very firmly and threaten to kick her. (I haven't actually kicked her.)

A friend told me that I can get November to groom herself by putting water drops on her fur in easy-to-reach places. So far, this has inspired two annoyed paw-shakes and a bunch of ignoring. She doesn't care about single drops of water, apparently, despite the fact that he swears up and down that he taught his cats to groom this way.

She did groom once, but... imagine a 3-year-old trying to use an old metal washing board, and the lack of motor coordination that age tends to entail. It was kind of like that.