so back in January after her surgery, the only time she could have the cone off is when she was sitting in my lap (so that I could physically stop her from scratching the stitches). despite not being much of a lap cat prior, Grim quickly learned that it was the only way she could go coneless & groom herself,
problem is that I felt extremely guilty shooing her off and putting the cone back on, so each time I got up, I’d toss her a treat. essentially double-rewarding the lap sitting - you get cone-free time, and a snack once it’s over! so even after the cone came off permanently, Grim kept planting herself on my lap because the devil beast knew that I can be manipulated through guilt, meaning I offer treats when getting up as a way of apology. so now I have a tense, muscular cat that forces herself onto my lap (she’ll lightly bite me if I try to prevent this) and stares into my face going MRRRPAAA! MRRRAA! for as long as it takes until I stand up
and I reward this behaviour and I cannot stop rewarding this behaviour because my mother was raised catholic and passed down a deep and illogical sense of permeating guilt that must be assuaged through the sprinkling of whiskas temptations. we construct our own hells through small accumulated actions, and then we must live in them.
