Trouble With Tim

I'm sitting in front of the laptop doing some late-night blog surfing, when I hear several loud, insistent "meows."

Looking down on the floor, I see that Tim has decided to join me.

I guess he can't sleep either.

"Why aren't you upstairs bonding with Joseph, you little bugger?"

Tim looks up at me with those big eyes of his, and meows again, pleadingly.



"Oh, all right... come here."

I shift in my chair so he can jump more easily onto my lap.

Once there, he places his paws against my chest, lifts his head to mine, and purrs loudly, rubbing his cheek against my face-- then lays his head on my lap, and continues purring contentedly.

Awwww.

But then rather suddenly, his head pops up, he leaps to the floor and lets go a long, loud "Meeeowww."

Hmmm.

"What's goin' on, Tim? Are ya' hungry?"

He turns away from me-- crouches down low, sticks out his neck and makes an awful, familiar sound.

A gagging sound.

"Aw, man-- a hairball already... "

As if to give immediate confirmation, Tim vomits.

A Lot.

And as I bend over to see what he's deposited on our rug, something doesn't look right.

Rather, it looks . . . colorful.

Huh.

I rub my chin.

Oh no-

Suddenly, I remember this:



An earlier victim of Tim's attentions.

Wrapping my hand in an old cloth, I pick up a tiny, mangled white go-go boot.

A torn, wet, pink mini.

A (once fabulous) blue and gold evening dress-- sans one sleeve, and covered in... well, you know.

And finally, a brilliant orange summer shift, mostly intact-- but with a tiny blue sleeve stuck to it.

Well, the boy does have good taste.

(Bad pun, I know-- but I'm tired)

Carefully, I place the regurgitated fashions in a plastic bag, and drop said bag in the rubbish-- hoping they won't be missed.

So now I'm trying to figure out how to keep Tim away from all of the the tiny, inappropriate things he seems to crave.

Anyone else have this problem?

Any ideas on how to change this kind of behavior in a 4-year-old, former stray kitty?

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Note: To any concerned cat owners out there-- Tim was his usual mellow self immediately following this incident-- no sign of further distress.

Though, shortly after I went to bed, I heard a scraping sound coming from the hallway. Upon investigation, I found Tim sticking his paws underneath Evan's bedroom door-- clearly wanting to get to the Polly Pocket mother lode on the other side.

Sigh.