She came back late last night. I could feel the adrenaline on her. If she had fur (poor human, she hasn't except in the wrong places) it would have been crackling with electricity. She was high as a kite with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Being a 63-year old antique human among the teenagers in an Agricultural college had really stressed her up.
I couldn't help showing my pleasure at her return. Of course, as any good human trainer knows, all obedience training must always be consistent. And I am afraid I wasn't. To err is human, to purr divine. I am afraid that by purring I was erring and letting her realise I was pleased to see her. I should have been punishing her for her absence.
Today I am making up for that lapse. I went out in the morning without noticing her. I hunted all through the morning and this afternoon, instead of coming in and perhaps sharing my bed with her for an afternoon nap, I am continuing to hunt. Active ignoring is the key to all human training. Reward good behaviour (such as feeding, petting etc) with purrs and ignore bad behaviour. Claw and teeth punishment should be reserved for truly bad behaviour only.
As I walked insolently past the glass of the kitchen door I heard her say: "Where IS George? He usually comes in about now." Good. I hope she misses me for a few hours. That's nothing to the six full days of her absense from cat duties. Tonight I shall sleep in the wastepaper basket instead of on my bed. I did this one night that she was away - to the mystification of Ronnie, deputy carer. The point about the wastepaper basket is that she can't get into it with me. That'll teach her.
PS. Special note for Oscar Snuggles and any US cats. Cheek is like chutzpah. So "the cheek of it" means "what insolence!"