Every night, Mr Thick and I would spend some time in the room with Coco. Sometimes, I would sit on the floor with my laptop and type away, while she gambols and pounces and chases away.
To get her used to my voice, I would engage in a monologue even as she ignores me. At times, I would be praising her for getting the toy out of the tunnel we had constructed from plastic mesh or for scratching her nails at the post we got for her. Good girl, Coco, I would say, or, Clever girl! And then I would throw a toy out for her to chase after.
But more often than not, I would be saying,
What are you doing, kitty cat? Good girl! Are you bored? Huh? NO NO NO DON’T STEP ON MY LAPTOP! Good girl. Go chase after a toy. NO NO NO THAT’S MY NIGHTIE DO NOT BITE. Yes baby, good baby, have a poo in your litter box. Good girl! NO NO NO NOT THE LAPTOP. Go chase a toy, baby. Go. Are you sleepy yet? NO THAT’S MY MUG, GO DRINK FROM YOUR OWN BOWL. Good girl, Coco, good girl! NO DON’T PLAY WITH MY TOES!