Once Rocky settled in life was never calm again. I still didn’t fully trust Little Joe with Rocky. Little Joe was just too big and Rocky was so tiny. But like a mosquito buzzing your head, Rocky loved to torment and torture his oversized mentor. It was my first real exposure to how different personalities can be between cats.

Little Joe was typically Persian. A couch potato, he didn’t play much, tired easily (or got bored) and was happiest just sleeping. When I took him to get pictures he was just a lump. The photographer could do anything with him and he’d put up with it. Petco used him for training for their new photographers. I got loads of discounted pictures and learned a lot from those sessions.

Rocky was the exact opposite. He was in perpetual motion and into everything. Where Little Joe couldn’t be bothered to try to escape if you locked him up, Rocky made it his mission. His paw would scoot under the door or the door knob would rattle. He’s just keep working it until he got it and came strutting out to say. I’m heeere.

Rocky is also a Pica Cat. I’d never heard of a pica cat before. Pica is a disorder characterized  by an appetite  for substances largely non-nutritive. In Rocky’s case it’s plastic. Not the hard plastic that bowls and toys are made of but plastic bags or the plastic wrap that comes on magazines, even packing tape plastic. Do you know how many things we use daily that are made of this soft plastic!?

I soon learned to throw those things away or put them in a drawer that he couldn’t open. The biggest scare of my life was when I heard Rocky coughing one morning.

At first I only paid a little attention thinking I’d have a mess to clean up. After all, cats throw up. They throw up hairballs and they eat too fast and throw up half digested food. Sometimes they can get sick if the food is too rich (it’s why you don’t give them table scraps) but this sounded different.

Just as I was about to go check it out Rocky staggered into the living room. He looked at me, his eyes rolled back and he fell on his side. I was frantic. On my knees by his side I thought I’d have to do kitty CPR but as I turned his little body over I saw a piece of plastic in the corner of his mouth. I grabbed it and pulled. As soon as it came out his little body gave a shudder and his sides heaved. A big breath in and out and he was back on his feet like nothing had happened.

To this day I do not know where he found the plastic to chew on. I assume he was chewing away and it covered his windpipe. If I hadn’t been right there he would have suffocated. You’d think that would have taught him a lesson but it hasn’t. I still have to be sure the house is plastic proof all the time!