Hiss And Tell: True Stories from the Files of a Cat Shrink - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Pam Johnson-Bennett is one of the most popular and sought-after cat behavior experts in the world. She has a private cat-consulting practice in Nashville, appears on Animal Planet UK and Canada, and lectures on cat behavior at veterinary and animal welfare conferences around the world. She's been featured on CNN, Fox News Channel, CBS, ABC, NBC, Fox & Friends, Animal Planet Radio, and many more shows. Print profiles include Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, Real Simple, Better Homes & Gardens, Woman's World, Newsweek, Prevention, USA Today, Family Circle, Complete Woman, Newsday, Chicago Tribune, USA Weekend, Washington Post, and Parade. She was VP of the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants and founded the IAABC Cat Division. Pam served on the American Humane Association's Advisory Board on Animal Behavior and Training. She lives in Nashville, TN.

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Excerpt

Tiki's Mysterious Mood

It was ten o'clock on Thursday night, and I had just gotten home from a late dayof client appointments. My head throbbed, and my empty stomach was grumbling. Iwas looking forward to taking a hot shower, grabbing a little snack, and thensettling into my comfortable bed.

    It was another half-hour of checking my phone messages and returning severalcalls before I finally made it to the shower. As is usually the case, thetelephone rang the moment I had a head full of lathered shampoo. Turning off thewater, I stuck my head out of the shower to listen to the message.

    "This is Margaret Taylor," a voice said urgently. "I've called everywhere. Idon't know what to do. The animal hospital gave me your number. Please call me.My cat attacked me. I've locked myself in the bedroom. Call me right away." Sheleft her phone number and again pleaded for me to call.

    I hurried out of the shower and over to the answering machine to jot downthe number. "No dinner tonight," I said to myself as I dialed the phone.

    "Hello?" said a frightened voice.

    "Hello, this is Pam Johnson-Bennett. Is this Margaret Taylor?" I could tellby her frantic tone that it was.

    "Oh, thank goodness you called. I don't know what to do. Tiki's out in thehall growling," she said under her breath, and then she began to cry. "Please,can you come over?"

    "First of all, are either you or the cat injured?"

    "He bit me pretty hard, but I'm okay," she answered, trying to pull herselftogether. "I just can't believe it. Why is he acting this way?"

    I asked Margaret Taylor to tell me exactly what happened.

    Tiki, her four-year-old Siamese cat, had just launched a seeminglyunprovoked attack on his owner. According to Mrs. Taylor, she was in the livingroom watching TV, when she heard a noise in the kitchen. Her husband was out oftown on business, so she went to investigate. When she turned on the light, shesaw Tiki crouched on the floor in the corner. The instant the cat saw her, helet out a screech and lunged at her, wrapping himself around her leg and bitinginto her calf. Mrs. Taylor screamed and had to forcibly pull Tiki off. He thenbolted out of the kitchen.

    Shaking and confused, Mrs. Taylor went to the bathroom to check her wounds.After cleaning one bite wound and several scratches, she looked around the housefor Tiki, but couldn't find him anywhere. She decided to phone her husband andtell him what had just happened. Deciding to use the bedroom phone so she couldsit on the bed, she stepped into the darkened room and flipped on the lightswitch. Again she heard that same screeching sound, and suddenly Tiki wascharging at her again. Mrs. Taylor managed to pull the cat off her a second timeand tossed him out into the hallway. After slamming the door, she ran to thephone to call her neighbor for help.

    There was no answer, so Mrs. Taylor called her veterinarian. The after-hoursrecorded message referred her to the local animal emergency hospital. The doctorshe then spoke to suggested she call me. By the time she called my number andheard my answering machine, she was in a panic, afraid there would be no oneavailable to help her.

    I told Mrs. Taylor I could be there in half an hour.

    "There's just one thing," she began. "I'm afraid to leave the bedroom, so Iwon't be able to open the front door. My bedroom is on the first floor, and I'dclimb out, but my house keys are in the front hall."

    Uh-oh.

    "Would you mind climbing in the bedroom window?"

    I arrived at the Taylor home twenty minutes after our phone conversation.Before leaving the car, I reached into the glove compartment for my flashlight.The outside of the house was very dark. I wondered if any of the neighbors couldsee this strange figure inching around the dark house. As I turned the corner, Isaw Mrs. Taylor's head peeking out the window. I walked closer and realizedthat, while she'd told me the truth about her bedroom being on the ground floor,she hadn't mentioned how high the window actually was.

    "Mrs. Taylor," I called up to her, "I don't think I can reach this windowwithout a ladder."

    "My garage is locked," she answered in a loud whisper. "My neighbor neverlocks hers, though. She's not home, but you can go over there. I'm sure she musthave a ladder." And she pointed to the house next door.

    "Why don't I just try one of your other neighbors?" I suggested. Somehow theidea of poking around in somebody's garage at night didn't appeal to me.

    "Are you crazy?" Mrs. Taylor shrieked. "Do you think I want all theneighbors knowing about this? Carol's the only one I trust!" Again she pointedto the house next door-only this time with noticeably less patience.

    So, off I went to search through one stranger's garage for a ladder so Icould climb into the window of another stranger's house. Not the way I normallyrun my business. But then, I don't exactly have a normal business.

    While I was unsuccessful in locating a ladder, I did find a stool. Withthat, I was able to hoist myself up (not a pretty sight) through the openwindow.

    Once inside, the first order of business was to check Mrs. Taylor'sinjuries. The wounds weren't deep, but I advised her to have a doctor check themin the morning, just to be on the safe side.

    "Mrs. Taylor, can you tell me what was going on right before the attack?"

    She insisted that nothing unusual had happened before the incident. "Theonly difference was that Tiki wasn't on my lap in the living room the way henormally is when I watch TV," she sighed. "He always sleeps on my lap, and hedid seem a little grumpy today."

    After getting a little more history on the cat, it was time to meet Tiki andinvestigate. I explained to Mrs. Taylor that something may have agitated himearlier in the day and that he was probably still very aroused when she startledhim in the kitchen.

    "But we've lived here all of Tiki's life. Nothing's changed," she explained,a look of total confusion on her face.

    "Something must have changed," I said while moving toward the bedroom door."Now, I need you to stay calm so I can go out and see Tiki. I'd prefer you tostay in here."

    "Are you going to try to capture him?" she asked.

    "No, he's too upset. I just want to check on him."

    Putting my hand on the doorknob, I turned and looked back at Mrs. Taylor.She was standing at the foot of her bed, chewing nervously on her nails. Inoticed a small TV in the room. "Mrs. Taylor," I said, "turn the TV on and tryto relax. You're safe in here." She nodded her head and obediently sat down infront of the TV.

    I quietly opened the door and looked out into the hall. First, I wanted torestore some normalcy to the atmosphere of the house because, right now, bothcat and owner were traumatized. Since Mrs. Taylor told me she watched TV everynight, I turned on the set in the living room to reestablish that familiar soundfor the cat.

    I casually walked around the house, hoping to spot Tiki. As I was about tostep into the hall, I caught a fleeting glimpse of black fur flying by into asmall bedroom. I walked back to Mrs. Taylor's room with a question.

    She jumped the moment I opened the door, then slowly sank back down onto thebed when she saw I didn't have...