I’ve enjoyed your tales of Hobey and Little Joe, as well as your excellent cat-related advice, so I decided to get your take on my own feline difficulties. Apologies in advance for the length of this letter.

After over six months of unemployment, I’m about to be employed again. While saying that my emotions are mixed (at best) about going back to work, it does present one big, honkin’ problem…how to wean the cats off of having me home with them all day, every day, while not descending into some kind of misbehavin’ feline hell.

A little background: My husband and I adopted our first cat about four years ago. “Superchief” is somewhere between seven and nine years old, and is a huge, cranky Maine Coon marshmallow with scruffy fur and a desire to do nothing more than spend the rest of his life being spoiled to make up for his alley cat background. (We’re doing our best.) He’s very much “my” cat. We adopted our other cat, “Satan,” about two years ago. She is a three-year-old calico with a very typical calico temperament. We like to say that she’s “a nice kitty, but not a good kitty.” Satan and Superchief do NOT like each other. When we brought Satan home, we tried every piece of advice we could find for introducing them gradually and making the whole introduction process as stress-free as possible.

To make a long story short, Satan still has to be locked up in the master bedroom every night so that Superchief can move around the apartment unmolested. (It’s actually our computer/TV room, but it has its own bathroom for her litterbox and a place for her food and water…very spacious.) Superchief has always slept with us, and I know that if we allowed Satan out at night, she’d run him out of the bedroom just as she has from all of his other favorite spots. She views the whole apartment as her territory, while he has allowed her to basically restrict his safe territory to the top of the kitchen counters and occasionally the dining table. Superchief outweighs Satan by at least half, but the boy just has no backbone at all. She bullies him, and he lets it happen. We’ve tried to help by scolding her when she messes with him, spraying her with water, making loud noises to distract her…we’ve even done the “positive reinforcement” thing by petting them or giving them special treats when they aren’t hostile to each other…but nothing helps. When she’s locked up at night, he’s his old playful self. But during the day, she rules the roost with an iron paw.

In retrospect, we realize that Satan was not the best cat for us. We should have un-adopted her when this first became glaringly apparent. (Wait, don’t get upset! The vet at the shelter where we got her was my old college roommate, and she was considering adopting her herself…if we’d brought Satan back, she would have gone straight into a loving home. Taking her back to the shelter and leaving her to her fate was never an option.) But it’s more than too late for that now, and besides, she set an all-time record for making us fall in love with her.

Now…back to the problem of going back to work. Since I’ve been home with them every day, the situation has gotten a little better. Satan (who we’ve decided has the world’s worst case of separation anxiety) has calmed down and isn’t quite so prone to attack Superchief…he can now get down on the floor to eat or move over to the dining table to sit with a minimum of harassment. He’s even ventured down the hall to his litterbox or across the living room to the windows from time to time. For her part, Satan hasn’t been nearly so prone to sharpening on the upholstery, climbing the curtains, getting into one of her biting frenzies, or any of the other rotten habits she used to have when my husband and I were both at work all day. So, as you might guess, I am TERRIFIED of what our feline children are going to do when “Mama” isn’t there to play with them and keep the peace all day. To top it off, I’m not happy to be going back to work…I’ve started painting again after a long time away from it, and I’ve started selling my work, but it’s not enough to pay the bills. Having to take time away from this and the cats — to go sit in a cubicle for nine hours a day — is going to bring up some bad feelings that I’m sure the cats will pick up on.

Okay, deep breath…this letter wasn’t nearly as clear and concise as I’d hoped, and I apologize. While I would take any tidbits of advice on the cats’ overall relationship that you might have to offer, what really concerns me is how to handle them after I go back to work. I’m already planning on lavishing attention on them during the time I AM home, but do you have any suggestions other than that? (Catnip will send them both into orbit, but not far enough to forget about each other.) Based on some vacations to their “grandparents'” house, we have high hopes that when we move into a bigger place (hopefully next summer), things will improve, but that’s then and this is now. Also, maybe part of the improvement is due to Satan getting older…maybe she’s just mellowing, and things will continue to get better as time goes by?

Thanks in advance for your help,
Cat Hostage

So down to the grit. He works with a woman whom I will call “Hanna.” About a year ago, they had a two-week fling when he first
moved to town. They ended it primarily because they thought that the work
situation would become sticky, but also because she didn’t want to pursue it
further. Okay, so fast forward about eight months to our meeting. He and
Hanna have become very good friends, and he and I have become an exclusive
couple. Because he wants me to know all of his friends, he invited us to all
get together for drinks. Since I had had a funny feeling about H before (she
would give me the “Hey. It’s you.” kind of greeting when I would visit the
office, and she seemed to call R a lot), I thought it would be good to meet.
Not so good. She never spoke directly to me. She was quiet and sullen all
evening. Finally R asked if she was all right…she then proceeded with
the “oh. *sigh* I guess I am just *sigh* a little tired. *sigh*” R said
all soothingly, “Well, sure…it was a busy week at the office.” She comes
back with this sad little head shake, a few more sighs, and a dejected look. A
few awkward coughs around the table and we move on.

Call me a product of a woman’s college, but I am familiar with the “the guy I
dumped has a woman all attracted to him? He must be more attractive than I
thought” phenomenon, so I was willing to put it aside. I figured, hey, sucks
to be her. She missed out, I’m with him now, ha ha ha.

Then, the next day. She called him five times. Five. Times. Always work-related, sure. But on a Sunday. They were going on a business trip together
the next day, so yeah, she had reason to call. Once. Twice. Hey, I’m
liberal. I’ll slide with three times. But five? While I’m spending the day
with him? I may have called her a few nasty names in my head. Sorry, Mom.

So here’s the thing (yeah, it took me awhile. Sorry. I like to give the
background dialogue): clearly, in these situations, if you trust your man,
you should not worry yourself with other women. Yeah. Got that. But is five
phone calls really proper? I know from your past responses that you feel
pretty strongly the impetus to not cheat is on the people in the
relationships, but wouldn’t one consider five phone calls to a guy a bit of
the bad manners? I tried to talk to R about this, but he thinks that if I am
jealous that that is our issue…that he is committed to me, says that he is,
and that is what matters. As H is a friend of his, he doesn’t think he should
have to tell her that she can’t call him when she wants to. Oh, and as a
note, we are in Finland…these peeps do like their cell phones. So yeah,
they have a higher phone call rate than perhaps I am used to. But
again…five calls. I’m just saying.

I know that if I was highly evolved, I would say…hey, I love my man, he
loves me, no constantly calling all sighing neediness hag can come between us. But
I’m not really that evolved. I can’t keep pestering R because it is just
causing tension between us and eventually he’ll just talk to H to get her to
stop…so I look like a crazed girlfriend completely insecure in her
relationship. Which I’m not, really. I don’t worry about him screwing around
with random women, and really, I’m not worried about losing him to H. So, I
don’t know, it’s childish. But they go on a lot of business trips together
and work together and hang out together, and I would feel better if she wasn’t
so obviously sniffing after him.

Would it be wrong to take off my shoe and beat her about the head and neck
area? Am I a completely crazed, jealous freak who shouldn’t be allowed out of
the house? Is there anything I can do without looking like I’m a whiny, needy
child?

Signed,
Just Asking

I’d like your advice on a situation that’s keeping me up nights. Literally. (I should explain that very little makes me lose sleep, no matter how worked up I might get about it during the day.) I think the world is sending me a message, but something is keeping me from acting on it.

I live in one of this fair nation’s major metro areas. I work in a part of town that, economic downturn notwithstanding, sees a lot of money and all of the trappings that come with it. Quite a while ago — I’m ashamed to admit how long it’s been — I noticed that we had a homeless man living under one of the main interstate overpasses that I passed every day. Major road projects moved in, I lost one job and found another (in the same area), and I lost track of him for a few months. A couple of months ago, I found him again. Displaced by the work on his “home,” he’d moved into a rather dense section of landscaping near the on-ramp. He has a little set-up behind the bushes and under some big evergreen trees now.

I was happy to see him still up and around (I had always been half afraid that I’d see a coroner’s van pulled up under the overpass one day), but I’m again ashamed to admit that I didn’t think much about it. Then one day, I noticed a couple of black and white kittens running around this piece of landscaping. Being a “psycho cat person,” this piqued my interest even more. Over the past few weeks, I’ve come to figure out that these are “his” cats. I don’t know if he’s had them all along, or if they were strays that he rescued…all I know is that he seems to feed them and take care of them as best he can.

My first thought was that I needed to call one of the cat shelters in town and have them come and take care of the cats. Maybe that was the right idea, I don’t know. I won’t go into my whole mental process, but I haven’t called, reasoning that even though it’s not the healthiest situation for the cats, it’s not the healthiest situation for their caretaker, either, and maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to take their company and comfort away from him.

So…I’m becoming more and more convinced that I need to do something for this man and his cats. There are no homeless shelters in this part of town…they’re all concentrated in the downtown area and the less affluent north end of the city. I used to see him panhandling near the McDonald’s on the corner, but I very rarely see him there anymore…when he’s out from his spot in the bushes, he’s sitting on the little hill, playing with the cats.

I don’t really believe in “messages” from God or the universe or what have you, but I’ve been feeling very guilty for not doing anything to help this man, and it seems like every time I turn around, there’s some new story about the homelessness crisis, or I get a newsletter about the rise in homeless animals taken in by shelters, or something. It’s eating me up, but I can’t seem to get off my ass and DO anything! Should I give him money? Should I pack up some blankets and cat treats? Should I give him 35 cents and the number of the no-kill cat shelter in town?

I don’t want to be one of those people who just watches the problem and doesn’t do anything to fix it. But I don’t know exactly what my move here should be. I know you always say to just make “a” decision, but I feel like, in this case, I need to at least try to figure out what the right decision is…if there is one.

Thanks for listening.

Trying To Avoid Any Jacob Marley-esque Visits From Former Cats

Because I value your opinion, advice, and talent, I have a question for
you, if you don’t mind. I will try to keep it short.

I moved to NYC after college without a job, finally agreeing to bite the
bullet and head where I wanted to go and hope the rest would fall into
place. After a couple weeks of continued job hunting (this after about nine
months of steady applications with no luck), I decided to work temp to earn
money while I looked for a job. I’m now in a temp assignment that is
long-term, with possibility for a “real job,” but in the distant future.
It’s not particularly fun or exciting, and has cemented for me that I do
not want to end up in a cubicle for the rest of my working life.

When I arrived in the city, I was clueless as to what I wanted to do
long-term. I knew that it would probably be rewarding for me to work at a
non-profit while I tried to figure out my life. I didn’t have much luck.
My current temp job is with a non-profit, and I’m able to see now,
firsthand, that this isn’t my life’s path.

I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching, trying to find out what it is I am
meant to do. I’ve read books, asked friends and family, analyzed myself,
et cetera. Consistently, both among those I love and myself, writing has emerged
as something I really enjoy and has the power to impact and (ideally) help
people in the way I want. My particular interest is in creative writing,
though essays and non-fiction appeal to me as well.

Problem is, I don’t know how to begin. I was not an English major, though
I graduated with a degree in psychology from a well-respected university.
I’m used to poverty (massive college loan debt and a temp job have aptly
prepared me for a resentful long-term relationship with Chef Boyardee), so
I’m not necessarily afraid of taking a risk, but I also don’t want to leap
blindly into something without some direction, or idea of how to start.
And my mother keeps reminding me that credit reports haunt you the rest of
your life and health insurance is expensive without an employer (in my
current state, I can’t even afford it anyway. My wonderful parents are
helping me out).

My most recent job guide recommends asking people who are currently in a
profession I hope to join. You are a writer yourself. You are a writer
who survives in NYC, who writes very well, and who impacts a lot of people.
I have great respect for you, so I would love whatever advice you can
offer. How did you make the leap yourself? What do you advise me to do?
And, more philosophically I guess, how did you figure out what you wanted
to do with your life?

Thank you very much in advance,
Stand In The Place Where You Work, Now
Face…?

I love your column, and that’s why I’m writing. I have a problem that’s probably at the core a self-esteem thing, and I’m looking for a way to start working it out.

I’ve been with this incredible guy for four months now, and he means everything to me; we’re completely and utterly in love. The problem I keep coming up against a wall with is probably pretty standard, but since this is my first boyfriend I have no experience with it. I just don’t feel good enough for him. I’m from the farm suburbs of Cleveland; he’s from Sydney. He’s had a lot of dating and scene experience, a fair amount of casual sex, he comes from a great school, he’s artistic and studying to be an even more brilliant musician than he already is (with the self-esteem and ego that goes with it), he’s always had plenty of extremely close friends…I come from a high school that sent about 25 percent of its people to college, I didn’t come out until I was a freshman in college, and even though that was a year and half ago, I still have no close gay friends, I had only a little sexual experience before him, I just don’t have (in my opinion) even half the interesting life he’s had.

He’s never asked me even in the slightest way to change for him, even though I’ve done it on my own; he’s been really patient with my sexuality issues; he told me the night we made it official that he can’t believe I thought I had nothing to offer him, and usually I really believe that despite all our differences he loves me for who I am. I love him so much, I couldn’t imagine being without him, but how do you get over feeling like you’re going to run out of reasons for someone to want to be with you? How do you stop comparing yourself to someone, usually feeling like you’re falling short of the mark, and just be happy with who you are now and where you’re going together? Maybe this is all insecure whining, but I could use any tough love you have to help me get over myself.

Happier (but unhappier) than ever