She’s Got Spunk
Since June is Adopt-A-Cat Month, I decided to fall in line and observe it.
I’d decided that my Bix needed a sister to get into trouble with. With me at work all day, the poor thing would want me to play with him all night long. I don’t blame the little guy. And I do play with him--I really love my time playing with him, but...I kind of have a life outside of the cat to attend to. I thought, hey, a younger short-haired female would be perfect—she wouldn’t be threatening, and he could boss her around, show her the ropes. He wouldn’t feel threatened by her presence. And honestly, I needed a cuddle cat. Bix has his moments when he’s affectionate, but he’s just not a cuddle cat. You can’t force a thing to be what it’s not.
So began the Great Cat Search of ’09.
So maybe it wasn’t technically “Great”...it only lasted a few weeks...
I looked on Petfinders, saw some cats from a particular group that fit my bill. Eventually met them. The ones I had in mind wouldn’t even come near me to let me pet them, and many of them were sick with colds and eye infections. The one that did let me play with him was a male and long-haired (not my first choice, but I was considering it), but he was sick with sneezing and wheezing! They were all kept in one room, so the sick ones were infecting the healthy ones. I said I wasn’t sure which one to pick...which was true. But I wasn’t getting my cat from that place. No way I was going to bring home a sick cat to Bix.
That night, I had the sudden burst of a brilliant idea to go to the Pasadena Humane Society—Bix had ended up there once, before I owned him, and I think they’re the ones who neutered and chipped him. I just had this really warm, glowing feeling about them. The next day, I went bright and early over to the shelter.
It’s really more of a compound than a building. There are two cat wards (the cats are in separate cages, to limit the spread of illnesses—they even ask you not to touch the cats so you don’t spread disease, and have hand sanitizers all over the place! Yes!), and I visited to see which cats in my age range I was going to bond with. Very exciting, a moment laden with promise!! Which one would it be? Which one??
The first one I saw was a black-and-white female, who was very friendly, reaching out, and then she started cleaning herself, completely occupied by it. There was a gray male next to her, very sweet, reaching out, too. A sweet white and gray female, seemed low energy with goopy eyes and nasal discharge. A friendly female tabby, with long hair—I guess that would be a Maine Coon Cat. A little black one, really sweet and friendly. Then I went back to the first and second ones I had seen—the black-and-white female and the gray male. The female was really friendly and sweet and even rolled on her back. She had some gumption, in addition to being sweet. And she had extra toes on her front paws (polydactyl)! I was drawn to her, for some unknown, illogical, I-can’t-say-why reason. I thought about the other black female...she might be a better fit for Bix. But when I filled out the paperwork, I just didn’t ask about the all-black one. Just the black-and-white one. I thought, pragmatically, you’d better ask, maybe you can meet both of them and see which one would be better. But I just let the black-and-white be the only one I was applying for. I don’t know why. Something else told me to let it go.
In the adoption consultation, I found out that she was healthy—slight upper respiratory infection and slight infection from spaying, all treated. She was sweet and amiable, but had a mind of her own (described as “affectionate” and “feisty”). Small! She was a year and three months old—an adult—but she still looked like an older kitten. She loved being pet about the head and face, and the butt scratch—her hind legs went up on the toes when she got the butt scratch!). She had a kink in her tail. She was such a funky cat, and I dig funky! And she was available to take home that day!
So take her home I did, nervous as all get-out that Bix would be fretting about her, because she was feisty. I wondered what I had done to my boy...But I also had the feeling that she would keep up with him, even challenge him, play-wise. That it might be good for them both in ways I couldn’t see yet. It is a Grand Experiment, the alchemy of two different temperaments blending...or not blending.
She adjusted really quickly, eating and drinking and using the litter box immediately, which is a good sign (she’s probably thinking, “I’m in a ROOM all by myself—it’s SO BIG!!”). I’ve been keeping her isolated to let all lingering trace of illness pass, and to gradually introduce them. First I’m letting them smell each other’s things. I’m rotating back and forth, keeping them both company equally. It’s strangely exhausting, but we’ve settled into a routine during the last six days. Tomorrow, I begin the introduction process—letting her out to explore the place a couple of times while Bix is elsewhere. Then I let them see just each other several times. If they’re calm, I let them have full body contact.
And to my pleasant surprise, Bix is curious about her. He knows there’s another cat in the bedroom—he hears her, he smells her. He sticks his paw under the door in order to make contact, to play, and she bats at it. She’s not afraid of him one bit. I’m conjecturing that she may even be boss cat, after all is said and done.
I’m calling her Sophie, after Sophie Tucker, the singer/vaudeville performer. Sophie had warmth, but she had lotsa spunk, a strong sense of self—this cat has those qualities, too. Perfect fit! I’m also starting to nickname her Johnny Bench, because her polydactyl thumbs look like catcher’s mitts. She gets all eager to be loved, but then she goes and lays down to go to sleep, or clean herself—she’s not clingy. She doesn’t have the focus that Bix has—she kind of has a touch of kitty ADD. But she’s not hyper, and not into everything. She doesn’t have the oral fixation that Bix does, and doesn’t chew everything she lays paws on. She loves to bat toys with her huge mitts. When she decides she’s tired, she lays down and zones for a bit, and then falls asleep. She sleeps deeper than Bix, and is more open to expose her belly than Bix is.
They’re both so very different, and I just friggin’ love them both so much.
And so begins the Grand Experiment!
I’d decided that my Bix needed a sister to get into trouble with. With me at work all day, the poor thing would want me to play with him all night long. I don’t blame the little guy. And I do play with him--I really love my time playing with him, but...I kind of have a life outside of the cat to attend to. I thought, hey, a younger short-haired female would be perfect—she wouldn’t be threatening, and he could boss her around, show her the ropes. He wouldn’t feel threatened by her presence. And honestly, I needed a cuddle cat. Bix has his moments when he’s affectionate, but he’s just not a cuddle cat. You can’t force a thing to be what it’s not.
So began the Great Cat Search of ’09.
So maybe it wasn’t technically “Great”...it only lasted a few weeks...
I looked on Petfinders, saw some cats from a particular group that fit my bill. Eventually met them. The ones I had in mind wouldn’t even come near me to let me pet them, and many of them were sick with colds and eye infections. The one that did let me play with him was a male and long-haired (not my first choice, but I was considering it), but he was sick with sneezing and wheezing! They were all kept in one room, so the sick ones were infecting the healthy ones. I said I wasn’t sure which one to pick...which was true. But I wasn’t getting my cat from that place. No way I was going to bring home a sick cat to Bix.
That night, I had the sudden burst of a brilliant idea to go to the Pasadena Humane Society—Bix had ended up there once, before I owned him, and I think they’re the ones who neutered and chipped him. I just had this really warm, glowing feeling about them. The next day, I went bright and early over to the shelter.
It’s really more of a compound than a building. There are two cat wards (the cats are in separate cages, to limit the spread of illnesses—they even ask you not to touch the cats so you don’t spread disease, and have hand sanitizers all over the place! Yes!), and I visited to see which cats in my age range I was going to bond with. Very exciting, a moment laden with promise!! Which one would it be? Which one??
The first one I saw was a black-and-white female, who was very friendly, reaching out, and then she started cleaning herself, completely occupied by it. There was a gray male next to her, very sweet, reaching out, too. A sweet white and gray female, seemed low energy with goopy eyes and nasal discharge. A friendly female tabby, with long hair—I guess that would be a Maine Coon Cat. A little black one, really sweet and friendly. Then I went back to the first and second ones I had seen—the black-and-white female and the gray male. The female was really friendly and sweet and even rolled on her back. She had some gumption, in addition to being sweet. And she had extra toes on her front paws (polydactyl)! I was drawn to her, for some unknown, illogical, I-can’t-say-why reason. I thought about the other black female...she might be a better fit for Bix. But when I filled out the paperwork, I just didn’t ask about the all-black one. Just the black-and-white one. I thought, pragmatically, you’d better ask, maybe you can meet both of them and see which one would be better. But I just let the black-and-white be the only one I was applying for. I don’t know why. Something else told me to let it go.
In the adoption consultation, I found out that she was healthy—slight upper respiratory infection and slight infection from spaying, all treated. She was sweet and amiable, but had a mind of her own (described as “affectionate” and “feisty”). Small! She was a year and three months old—an adult—but she still looked like an older kitten. She loved being pet about the head and face, and the butt scratch—her hind legs went up on the toes when she got the butt scratch!). She had a kink in her tail. She was such a funky cat, and I dig funky! And she was available to take home that day!
So take her home I did, nervous as all get-out that Bix would be fretting about her, because she was feisty. I wondered what I had done to my boy...But I also had the feeling that she would keep up with him, even challenge him, play-wise. That it might be good for them both in ways I couldn’t see yet. It is a Grand Experiment, the alchemy of two different temperaments blending...or not blending.
She adjusted really quickly, eating and drinking and using the litter box immediately, which is a good sign (she’s probably thinking, “I’m in a ROOM all by myself—it’s SO BIG!!”). I’ve been keeping her isolated to let all lingering trace of illness pass, and to gradually introduce them. First I’m letting them smell each other’s things. I’m rotating back and forth, keeping them both company equally. It’s strangely exhausting, but we’ve settled into a routine during the last six days. Tomorrow, I begin the introduction process—letting her out to explore the place a couple of times while Bix is elsewhere. Then I let them see just each other several times. If they’re calm, I let them have full body contact.
And to my pleasant surprise, Bix is curious about her. He knows there’s another cat in the bedroom—he hears her, he smells her. He sticks his paw under the door in order to make contact, to play, and she bats at it. She’s not afraid of him one bit. I’m conjecturing that she may even be boss cat, after all is said and done.
I’m calling her Sophie, after Sophie Tucker, the singer/vaudeville performer. Sophie had warmth, but she had lotsa spunk, a strong sense of self—this cat has those qualities, too. Perfect fit! I’m also starting to nickname her Johnny Bench, because her polydactyl thumbs look like catcher’s mitts. She gets all eager to be loved, but then she goes and lays down to go to sleep, or clean herself—she’s not clingy. She doesn’t have the focus that Bix has—she kind of has a touch of kitty ADD. But she’s not hyper, and not into everything. She doesn’t have the oral fixation that Bix does, and doesn’t chew everything she lays paws on. She loves to bat toys with her huge mitts. When she decides she’s tired, she lays down and zones for a bit, and then falls asleep. She sleeps deeper than Bix, and is more open to expose her belly than Bix is.
They’re both so very different, and I just friggin’ love them both so much.
And so begins the Grand Experiment!
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