Franklin's Arch Enemy: Objects Placed on Flat Surfaces

If you're in the Gallagher household, a bit of advice: never leave any object less than six inches from an edge. Even then, you may not be safe. Why? Because Franklin gets major jollies from intentionally knocking things over with his paws.

Scenario one: You're on the john and Franklin is watchng (a favorite pasttime of his--see my previous postings). He jumps up onto the sink searching for some super-excellent Middletown City Water to slurp up in the noisiest way possible, but when he finds none, he decides to tell you to turn on the faucet on. By knocking the following objects from the sink onto the floor/into the tub:

-contact lens case
-contact lens solutions
-soap dispenser
-face mask
-hairbrush

Scenario two: You're working on your computer, deep in thought, when the sound of paper rattling and tearing distracts you. You ignore it. Moments later, a meowing black beast jumps on the table next to your computer and proceeds to knock over your papers, clipboard, index cards, and other normal desk props. They fall with a dramatic crash. You rise, and the cat runs and hides, because he knows what he did and did it for fun.

Scenario three:

Do you dare watch a movie and not pay attention to Franklin? BIG MISTAKE! The pile of books you have stacked to donate the used book store will wind up all over your floor, and then, to make matter worse, the Satanic beast will then paw at all the covers--CATearing them, if you will.

Toiletries. Paper products. Dishware. Nothing is safe.

If Franklin is not knocking things over but is in AWFUL AWFUL Mode, he'll gallop through the apartment producing disturbingly loud beats, yowling at the top of his kitty lungs. I would also like to add that Alan just chastized him for eating a house plant.

Franklin on a Typical Morning

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46dcGsiwuHY

The process of Franklin asking his humans to get up to feed him is excruciating, and once you're up, this high-pitched meow awaits. Voice on video: former roommate Sean Treacy. Site: former apartment in Wilton.

Ah, You Don't Believe We're on the Eve of Destruction

Okay so. I've mentioned that Franklin is destructive little beast, but those claims are meaningless without some photographic evidence. The first photograph to the left shows the hook and eye that Al had to install on our refrigerator door in Binghamton because our cat could pull the refrigerator open. On some occassions, unfortunately not documented, he even pulled food OUT of the fridge. Not cat food, mind you. One can't blame this on his instincts or hunger. He'd pull out bags of onions. Leftovers stored in plastic tubs. He was even able to get the crisper open.

Now, to be fair---the refrigerator door seals WERE faulty, so opening the fridge wasn't as hard for him as it might have been. But the fact is that he sought to do it BECAUSE HE KNEW HE WASN'T SUPPOSED TO. He would literally stare at you, meow, and then pull it open, and then walk away. A few times, when we'd forget to lock the fridge during a weekend away, we experienced quite a bit of spoilage. Just another drop in the bucket when it comes to supporting and tolerating my massive pet.




An aquamarine representation of Iraq? Modern art? No, it's Franklin's way of celebrating after he laid filth in his litter box. Seriously, every time he shit in the Binghamton house he CLAWED AND SCRAPED AT THE WALL when he was done, and this was the result.
The worse is when he'd crap outside the box...dirty, clean, it didn't matter...and then claw the wall. It sounded exactly like nails on a chalkboard. At the new apartment he does not do this. I will never understand.





The last photo shows Franklin's most recent masterpiece. It took me hours to get all of the dirt cleaned up, and people, this is what I woke up to. It was (of course) a Monday. Franklin's good at preying on the weekend-weary. I'm not sure if he was trying to eat my plant or mount it. Judging from his penchants, it could have been either.



The photos do go on, as to the stories. The shredded carpets. The broken mini-blinds. The chunks taken out of doors. The modem that he drowned. I'd enlighten you all with all of that, but I have to go stop him from trying to escape out the second story window. I wish I were kidding. I'm not.

Franklin's Adopted Sister - Another Outlet for his Abusive Ways

This is Sarah. Well, her real name is Saranac, after her place of origin--beautiful Saranac Lake, New York. One could say that Sarah's had a rough life. Being a shelter cat, her past is spotty, but it was revealed by the animal rescue organization that she once lived with a homeless woman in a tent along with another cat, with whom she did not get along. She was then sent to live at my friend's house, which was populated with four cats who HATED her and would gang up on her. This ultimately led my husband and I to adopt this beautiful dark tortoiseshell kitty. But her adventures through kitty skid row are not the saddest thing about Sarah.

She has no teeth.

That's right. NO teeth. Unless you count the little nubs in the front of her mandible, which I don't, because they are useless. We sometimes stick our fingers in there when we feel like being jerks. She wasn't born without teeth--well, maybe she was, I don't know how cat anatomy works--but she was toothed when she came into our consciousness. Her teeth had to be removed because they were all rotted, which threatened her health, and saddened olfactory devices of all nearby organisms. So she's kinda like a four-legged wooly bear.

But the real disability only really shows itsef when she's forced to fight Franklin.

Remember how I described him as having the personality of a swarthy bus driver? Well, Sarah is your adorable, crocheting Grandma. An extremely loving, pleasant, SWEET cat. Bumps everything with her head. Purrs constantly. That is, except for whenever Franklin is:

-Attempting to mount her (with no success, because he's neutured and because he has no balance)

-Biting her head

-Poking her in the tummy with his giant organ-piercing paws

-Stalking her

-Watching her crap

-Pushing her away from her food (how she managed to get fat is beyond me. Seriously, he'll eat her share if given half the chance)

-Hitting her in the face

She does fight back. Problem is, again---the toothlessness. Being bitten by Sarah is like the creepist handshake you've ever felt--soft, weak, wet and ineffectual.

They do have pleasant moments. They groom each other, lie next to one another, the whole nine yards....until Franklin spoils it by chomping her shoulder or smacking her in the head. And Sarah acts like a Lifetime Movie wife in regards to Franklin: SHE GOES BACK FOR MORE. She hates to be away from him and will cry at the door if they are separated. So I don't help her anyone.

Just another expression of the length and depth and breadth to which my cat is a jerk.