 Current Cats: Kittens at rest  ive Strains The System
Blending new cats with the old can add a lot of tension into your life. What's that Chinese curse? May you live in interesting times. We do. After the loss of our beloved Katie-Cat, we went in search of another tabby. At the local Humane Society we found a beauty, 4 months old (the same age Katie was when I got her), but she was entwined in the arms of her sister, a little black-and-white cutie. We only wanted one cat...but how could we split up sisters who hugged one another? It was soon obvious to us, however, that these kittens had been abused. (Are you picking up a pattern here?) We couldn't pet them without them screaming in what seemed like pain. It took many months of desensitization to convince them that "petting is nice." These cats, who once clung to one another, not to us, we now have to pry off our laps. And Betsy now loves to be brushed. Bonnie, affectionately known as Bon-Bon, loves her cat cookies. She knows when 5 o'clock comes--happy hour for humans--because it's also kitty snack time. She'll patiently wait on Frank's chair for her Whisker-Lickins. Betsy loves her toys, but, she also loves to hide them. Consequently, every toy in the house will disappear--only to be found under the couch (and behind the cushions), the fridge, the armoire, and any other small dark space. Toys are sacred and not to be "toyed" with (especially by other cats). Both girls like to "hang"--off of chairs, your leg, computers--which makes them look completely silly. Chester came to us as a Christmas gift from Larry. Huh? you say. I was Christmas shopping at the mall some 9 months after losing our beloved Larry and suddenly I knew there was a black cat somewhere in the mall. I walked from one end of the mall to the other following this weird feeling. I didn't even know the mall had a pet store, but there it was like Brigadoon. I walked in, found an employee and said, "You have a black cat here. Can I see it?" She said, "Sure." Within a minute, another employee came out holding a young cat like a small child straddling her hip. I petted the cat, who didn't seem the least bit interested in me, and fled to find a pay phone. I called my husband. Frank didn't seem the least bit interested, either. He was still mourning Larry. I went home. We ate dinner. But I convinced Frank to go to the mall, just to "see" the 6-month-old cat. The manager told us that this neutered cat had been returned by its owner, who "could no longer keep him." The cat made a favorable impression on Frank in the 'get-acquainted' room, but Frank still wasn't sure. So, we left a deposit on the cat (just in case) and went home. We hadn't been home 15 minutes when Frank said, "Let's go get him." We like to think that Larry led me to Chester. Of course, the fact that Chester doesn't give a damn for me, and feels he's Frank's son, reinforces that perception. [g] Unlike Larry, however, Chester can be a bit of a bully. When Henry, the policeman, was in the mix, he kept Chester from antagonizing Betsy and Bonnie. After Henry went to his reward, Chester began to menace the girls. But revenge came in the form of Fred and George.... I first saw the handsome Tuxedo and his brother, a tiny black cat, in a cage, during the summer of 2002 at our local PetSmart, where a no-kill shelter housed adoptable cats. In December, I thought I saw two different cats in the same cage. In early January 2003, I was in the store again. There were two cats in the same cage: a gorgeous Tuxedo, and a tiny black cat. Wow, I thought, those poor cats had been in that cage six weeks. I told Frank about them on a Thursday, and how sorry I felt for them. The next night, he said, "Let's go get those boys." We went to look at them the very next morning and discovered those cats had in fact been in that cage for 39 weeks. When I asked the Animal Rescue worker why they hadn't been adopted, she said, "People don't want black cats." While Fred (after Fred Astaire) and George (well, what else would you name a brother of Fred? (i.e. after the Weasely twins from Harry Potter)) received cat-to-human socialization skills from their benefactors, they didn't have a clue how to behave with other cats. Consequently, they had what we called "cage manners." Sometimes they'd act like teenagers with baseball bats, threatening Chester and the girls equally. As time went on, it became apparent that little George, the tiny terrorist, was not going to mend his naughty ways. It was with great sadness that we decided for the well-being of our other cats, that George would need a new home. George now lives in Buffalo, NY with his roommate Smirnov and new Mom Cindy, where he's an avid birdwatcher and spoiled rotten. He's much happier and so are our other cats. Meanwhile, his brother Fred has become my little Prince. Frank says I dote on him. Okay, I do, but he's such a wonderful boy, he deserves it. His manners have improved and he and Chester have almost become friends. Unfortunately, now that Chester no longer feels threatened, he has gone back to his former hobby of terrorizing the girls. *Sigh* I continue to say over and over again, "I love cats...I love cats...I love cats...."
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1909 Monday March 24 2008 |
