Neither one of them was particularly demonstrative. Their mother was feral, and both of them were deemed "unadoptable" by the shelter as kittens because they were "too wild".
They weren't lap cats, nor were they snugglers. But The Runt would act happy to see me when I got home from work. He loved to hop up on the bed next to me for some quality time with his nuk-nuk towel, and if I was puttering in the garden he'd stay close by. He liked for me to comb him in the morning, and he'd hang out in the bathroom while I was getting ready for work.
Little Girl? Not so much.
I always got the feeling that I was pretty much on the periphery of Little Girl's radar - I was The Lady with the Cat Food. Oh, she'd tolerate a petting on occasion, but she was more likely to meow with indignation if I tried to pick her up. On summer days, sometimes the only time I'd see her was when she'd come in to eat.
But now that she's lost her brudder, I'm not looking so bad to her. Imagine that. She brings me (dead) mice and (live) frogs*, she actually hopped up on the bed and cuddled with me the other morning, and she's decided that SHE wants to get combed in the morning, thankyouverymuch.
Oh, and it's not just me. There's a neighborhood cat whom I call the Cow Kitty, and Little Girl has started a campaign to become Cow Kitty's bff. It's adorable to watch her moon after him.
If she's out in the yard with me and she sees Cow Kitty in a neighbor's yard, she's off to pal around with him.
Little Girl sure misses her brudder. I wish I could make it all better for her. I just don't know how. Any suggestions on how to cheer up a mourning cat?
*oh sweet Jeezus I awoke at four-thirty the other morning to a giant FROG in my bedroom - gah.
5 comments:
Awwww. It sounds like she definitely likes having someone to pal around with. Before, that was the Runt, and now it's you (and Cow Kitty). I think what you're doing is perfect: letting her come to you at her comfort level. The only other thing I can think of is to get another cat, but I don't know your feelings on that (if it's too soon, etc.).
BTW, if I woke up with a live frog in my bedroom, I would die.
I noticed that with dogs, too. When Ninja died, Baby became much more affectionate. It was like I was meeting the real her for the first time, even though I had thought we were close and she was pretty nifty before.
I think the beasties turn to each other for socializing and emotional support, rather than us, the "different" species. If you want affection and bonding from an animal, you pretty much have to have just one. (Or the one that the other animals pick on.)
People with multiple animals will argue with that, but ... they might change their opinion when they're down to one pet, and experience the difference. I was very surprised.
Pickles, yeah, it's too soon for another cat. It would always be The Replacement Cat, you know?
And as far as the frog goes, you should have seen me - 4:30 in the morning, pitch dark, pouring rain, and I'm out in the backyard in my PJs with a pissed-off frog in an empty Cool Whip container, trying to find a good place to set it free. Jeez.
~~Silk, it's true! I mean, I get the whole "any port in a storm" thing, but she's like a totally different cat. I'm, like, "Who ARE you?"
When my first cat died the second wasn't sad. But when the first and second were gone -- the third was inconsoable. He went from being a total jerk to my shadow.
yeah, I have too many cats.
Naw, you don't have too many cats. When the producers of "Animal Hoarders" show up at your door - THAT'S when you've got too many cats.
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