visiting cats, adopting cats

[tielan]

So, we have cats in the house again after what feels like a very long absence. (For me, anyway.)

Meet Charlie and Crosbie:


We're catsitting these guys while their owners go off to Europe for the summer. They're Burmese: Charlie is the lilac point, and Crosbie is the chocolate point. That is my bed, and this is a fairly common sight these days.

Charlie is about 10 and failing in health, quiet and fairly dignified. Crosbie is 7 and an attention whore.

Example #1:
Crosbie: You aren't paying attention to me! Why? Why? Why?
Me: I'm writing something that was due six days ag-- OOF!
Crosbie: Say, this is a really nice lap. And your shoulders are really neat to put my paws up. And hey, your chin is at the perfect height for butting with my head!
Me: Don't even think of flexing those claw-- ACK!
Crosbie: I am happy now, which I show by flexing my claws.
Me: *unhooks kitty paws* No claws. And sit in my lap and behave like a self respecting cat instead of some kind of kitty chest-warmer.
Crosbie: But I like being a kitty chest-warmer...okay. Fine. Humans! I am happy now which I shall show by flexing my--
Me: NO CLAWS.
Crosbie: Yes, yes. Whatever.
Charlie: I would wait until she lies down for a nap and then crawl on her chest. Observe and learn, my young padawan.



Charlie: It's still a really nice lap. And hey, great legs! *flexes claws*
Me: ...

Luckily, I don't mind being covered in cats.

It's so nice having cats in the house again, that the twins have been persuaded around to getting cats when they leave in late January.

We even have candidates: the two-month old litter of a cat owned by a friend out in western NSW. She acquired a kitty from someone else whose cat had littered, and didn't get around to getting the kitty desexed. Next thing? Kittens!



There are five of them. Mal is the one closest to my hand, with Smokey in front of the dish, Bandit behind the brick, Tom balancing on the wood, and Tiger vanishing into the space under the water tank.

They are the fluffiest, squeakiest, most adorable kittens imaginable. And my friend said I could have a couple. So I have pics and videos to show the sistren so we can get two of them. One for B1, one for me.

If we ever manage to decide, that is.

But Charlie and Crosbie have reminded me of how much I missed having a cat around the house. So come their departure, we're definitely not going to go back to being a catless house...

Comments

[thothmes]

The very first cats in my life were two Siamese, a half year apart in age, that belonged to my uncle, who lived with us (we were living with my grandmother at the time) off and on for several years of my life between preschool and fourth grade. George, a Seal Point was the elder, a serious, earnest, eager-to-be-loved fellow, and Simon the younger, a Blue Point, was the younger, the boss!cat of the two of them, more reclusive, and utterly devoted to George, provided George did as he was told and gave Simon first dibs at the food bowl. That first picture looked just like one of a million classic George-and-Simon moments.

When I was in sixth grade my grandmother moved, and she was transporting the cats and my younger siblings from her house (about 3 hours south of where we then lived) to her new house in Vermont (about 3 hours north of where we then lived). My mom and stepfather were driving up separately with a packed car full of plants and other items that could not be transported with children or cats. My grandmother stopped at our house along the way to give my sibs a chance for a potty break, and in doing so, George escaped, and could not be found. Sadly the voyage was completed without him.

Simon spent about six months after that fruitlessly calling for George, wandering around the new house, yowling and searching.

One day we got a call from someone who remembered the notices we had put up. She had a skeletally thin Seal Point who answered to George. Was that our missing cat? It was, and the joy of the reunion of Simon and George brought tears to the eyes of all. Simon let George go first at the food bowl until his weight returned to normal.

Sadly, George died about 18 months before Simon did. Because Simon saw the body, he didn't do the yowl-y thing again, but again he wandered, as if looking for some trace of his friend, and clearly he mourned. Instead of rushing his food bowl, the habit of a lifetime, he would wait a decorous few minutes, as if waiting for George to have his turn.

George and Simon are how I know for a fact that cats are not "just animals", but furry people, with feelings, and bonds, and memories.

[tielan]

Oh that is the cutest story ever!

Yeah, Charlie has been sick, and for a while was at the vet. Apparently Crosbie yowled a lot, getting lonely.

And when they settle down together for snuggles and snoozes, there's a lot of licking and cleaning and preening.