Almost a year ago, I wrote a blog called, ‘Crazy Cat Lady’. This blog performed exceedingly well – for some time it was ranked as my ‘most liked post’. It’s still in second place even now. It got shared on Flipboard. I personally didn’t share it there, I didn’t even know what Flipboard was at the time. Anyway, as pleased as I was at the performance, I never really understood why. It was good, as blogs go, but possibly not the best thing I’d ever written (I’m kidding, it was brilliant– much like this post will be😉). I’m not complaining about the post’s success – why would I be? But it made me think…people really like cats, don’t they? I mean, I know I do – but g’zillions of other people love them too. Funny cat videos are so popular these days – my kids are obsessed with them. Now I want to make it clear from the outset, I’m NOT trying to ride on the coattails of this international cat obsession or my high-performing cat blog (much), but it’s just that my two cats have evolved since they first arrived in our lives and I last wrote a post about them. So I thought you might like to hear a bit more about my strange little kitties.
Slim:Poor Slim. If you recall, she’s the stray who we initially took in (actually, she broke in), starving and pregnant, about eighteen months ago. She was always an odd cat from the outset, but I fear her mental illness is getting worse. No really, I do think this cat is a bit…troubled, shall we say (probably due to life on the ‘streets’). She was never a terribly friendly cat. When she first arrived, she was so grateful we’d accepted her, she would at least sit on your lap before biting you if you touched her paws one too many times. But nowadays, she wouldn’t be seen dead on a ‘hooman’s’ lap. I think, psychologically, she got worse once we had her neutered. It’s like we inadvertently took all the joy out of her life; that potential to be a ‘mummy cat’ was stolen from her. Now she is a complete loner and an utter grump, you’d be lucky to walk past her without a swipe. All she wants is to sleep. This is usually a designated place that she will only sleep in for about two weeks before changing to a new site. I believe she does this for security purposes – in case she is viciously attack in the night by…I don’t know who. Slim is never complacent about these things. Oh, and she likes to be fed. Other than that, she doesn’t want much to do with us. Recently, the back door became frozen shut (it’s going to cost a lot as the whole door needs replacing, plus a new cat flap, so that repair is having to wait). So the cats have had to learn to exit and enter the house from a different door; the side door. Kirby (our littlest cat) took to this change with no problem at all. But Slim? God, you’d think it was the end of the world. For days she would meow endlessly at the broken back door, and I had to physically pick her up (fearing for my life as one NEVER picks up Slim), her growling and snarling and mewing all the way to the side door. Now she’s got wise to this; she still mews at the back door, but she will NOT let me pick her up. So I now have to stand behind her and follow her yowling and hissing angrily all the way to the side door instead. I sometimes wonder if it’s a black cat thing; I had a cat many years ago who was all black. That one was a misery too. It’s such a shame, really. Slim is such a beautiful girl and I’d love to pet her.You’re probably thinking, she’s just a black cat – all black cats look the same. Well, that’s very catist of you (actually, there’s a black cat who lurks at the bottom of the garden who’s virtually her double). But whenever you try to stroke her, invariably she will swipe at you. I wish I’d named her ‘Swiper’, in hindsight – ‘Swiper, no swiping!’ . I don’t think she’ll ever change. But every cat deserves a home, even the unfriendly ones. And our home is her home for as long as she wants it.
Kirby isn’t a kitten anymore, although we still call her one. ‘Where’s the kitten?‘ As you may remember, Kirby is the daughter of Slim; the only one of her three kittens that we kept. But Slim detests Kirby. Slim hates Kirby even more than she hates us (and that’s saying something). Kirby cannot go near her mother without being hissed or growled at. Which is a shame really, as Kirby likes nothing more than the company of Slim. Unfortunately though, whatever Slim has, Kirby wants. If Slim has found a lovely new sleeping spot, be it on a chair or in a box we’ve haplessly forgotten to throw away quickly enough, Kirby wants that sleeping spot too. So Kirby will try to nab it before her mother does – even if it’s a place she wouldn’t have been dead sleeping in before. Oh, and she has a fondness for hiding in dark corners and jumping out onto Slim’s head to frighten her (come to think of it, I do understand why Slim dislikes her so much), only to have a swift swipe around the head from her mother. At least Kirby loves us, though. And I hate to blow my own trumpet, but I think she loves me best of all. Well, I’m the one who feeds her ninety percent of the time. She currently likes to sleep in my bedroom and generally refuses to go to bed until I do. Kirby loves breakfast – human breakfast. She adores porridge and any leftover milk from a cereal bowl. She won’t drink milk that I’ve put in her bowl, mind you – only milk from cereal. She also absolutely loves to drink bath water from our finger tips. She doesn’t want the lovely fresh water I put in her bowl every morning – no, no, no. Only soapy bath water. Or disgusting puddle water, of course. But what cat doesn’t love that delicacy?
I once heard a cat psychologist (yes, it’s a thing) say that cats are more attached to their homes than they are to their owners – which is why cats find it so hard when you move house. And you know what? Sadly, I think that may be true. We will probably always love our cats more than they love us. Some people don’t like cats because many of them are so aloof. But I can understand why cats behave that way. Sometimes I’m aloof too and would rather be left alone. My feline friends really are characters, though. So much so, that we’ve bestowed them with voices. We talk to them, and they now talk back in a very odd accent – an even blend of German, American and Indian, I’d say. I don’t know why. And even though my cats are related, they are the polar opposite of each other. Although they continue to cause untold damage to the house and untold stress to me (we once went away overnight and returned to wee, poo, and sick on the floor, which they never normally do – I think it was just because they knew they could), I wouldn’t be without them. Because I have come to need them as much as they need me. Well, at least I think they need me, it may just be the food and house they want; you can never be too sure with cats.😳
NB: I could not get a picture of the cats sitting together. Because they NEVER sit together.