December Days 2022 #24: Becatted
Dec. 24th, 2022 10:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silveradept[What's December Days this year? Taking a crowdsourced list of adjectives and seeing if I can turn them into saying good things about myself. Or at least good things to talk about.]
I have had cats in my life for most of my life after college. My ex liked to collect them, after the first session where we fostered a mother and her litter of kittens. Mother and two kittens were adopted out, and we kept the other two kittens. Primary Cat was a tabby with a nature that didn't like being chased around and would often climb a cat tree and hiss when any of the other cats would want to play and chase her. She, however, liked chasing toys, including the red dot, when she had the opportunity and it was unlikely another cat would also join in the chasing. For the most part, she was the cat who wasn't as adventurous as the others. She is one of the reasons why I wish my ex health and wellness, because I want Primary Cat to live a full and properly taken care of life.
Auxiliary Cat 1.0, Primary Cat's brother, was adventurous, playful, and loved to explore. He was the reason the dog flaps were sealed up at my ex's house, when I discovered him wandering in the back yard while supervising the dogs. He was also the one who willingly came down the stairs when we left the recreational vehicle door open, which I noticed from the top of the vehicle and mentioned to the people in the ground so they could get him back inside. Unfortunately for all of us, he had a heart condition, and by the time I finally got wise that he was not just being shy and that his hiding was, in fact, the thing that cats do when they are vulnerable and don't want to be easy prey, it was too late to do anything for him. He was only three when he left us, and we tested Primary Cat to be sure she didn't have the same problem (she didn't.) I still miss him, and wonder what it might have been like if there had been competence and enough money to catch his problem earlier and possibly treat it correctly when it would have been more likely to work.
For a short while, the ex and I fostered an older cat, but the older cat had intestinal issues with diarrhea and could not use the litter box reliably enough to keep her without a massive amount of laundry necessary to keep her in clean sheets for her cage. Sweet, loving cat, but too much maintenance for what we could provide.
Tertiary Cat, another tabby (or possibly a calico, I forget) came because my ex fashioned cat houses out of polystyrene containers and had extension cords running so there would be warm electric beds inside those containers for cats to come in from the cold. Tertiary Cat was a regular of the outdoor beds and, after we checked to make sure she was free of viruses and other pathogens, she came in to avoid continued fights with Neighbor Cat 1.0 at the time. (There has always been a Neighbor Cat, even when the neighbors changed, and regardless of which version, Neighbor Cat has always been interested in fighting other cats she sees and singing the song of her people.) I named her after a concept related to Fate, because I knew as soon as she arrived and stuck around, she was going to be an indoor adopted cat. (And then proceeded to insist on the correct spelling of the term, rather than altering it to include a Z so that all of the cats that were eventually part of the indoor household had a Z in their name.) Tertiary Cat was fine, did not cause trouble, and got along well with other cats, as much as possible. I had no objections to her specifically, but I also didn't want to take care of more than two cats at a time, and had said as much. My ex, the one who made me say no directly before she would accept it and who would then get upset that I had said no, respected my wishes about only two cats as much as she respected most of my other wishes about making the relationship work and keeping expenses within income, or at least somewhere in the ballpark of within income. So there was always going to be Tertiary Cat inside, and I named her because I was resigned to my fate on the matter.
Quarternary Cat, the West Wind, was an adorable void with a knotted tail who absolutely got out of someone's house and was wandering when I first met him. How do I know this? He jumped into the back seat of the car when I had the door open and was loading it. It was clear at that point, in addition to his general friendliness, that he had been around people enough not to fear them and seemed pretty intent on getting someone to take care of him. While I knew it was extremely likely that he would become part of the menagerie, I felt it was safest for us to take him in so that when a lost cat poster appeared in the neighborhood for him, we could contact the house that lost him and return him to them. No such posters ever materialized. Since I had made peace with the likelihood that he would be joining us, and already rationalized to myself that a fourth cat had not much more marginal cost than the third that had already been foisted on me, there were four indoor cats to feed and figure out logistics for at that point in time. Quarternary Cat was all kitten and all playtime. He loved to chase, he lived to play with toys, he really enjoyed pouncing and nipping, and he was the cause of most of the other cats growing and treeing themselves to try and get away from his boundless energy and desire to play with all the other cats. The other cats used their words and their actions to explain how little they were interested in playing with the little one, but he kept trying to be a social kitten all the same, and to play all of those games that kittens and cats are supposed to play. And no lost cat poster ever came up. He was a delight to have around, even though he didn't understand why everyone else around him was so cranky.
We eventually also adopted Neighbor Cat 1.0, although strictly was an outside cat, after the neighbor to the south what she was left abruptly and left her behind. She was already coming over and availing herself of the outdoor cat enclosures, anyway, so we mostly just kept taking care of her in that regard.
Which brings us to Auxiliary Cat 2.0. She's is the only cat of my experience who is mine and still with me today. All the other cats who were alive when my ex moved out left with my ex, who had the laughable belief that she would do better taking care of them than I would. For their sakes, I hope my ex stays alive and healthy until all of them have passed on after full and pampered lives, but there was no way that she could do it without help.
After Auxiliary Cat 1.0's early exit from life, I wanted to make sure Primary Cat had a companion to continue to play and get along with, so we went to a house that had been converted into a car shelter by the agency that ran out, and I got to see and pet and listen to all sorts of cats to see if we could find one that would be compatible with Primary Cat. One of the cats in the house, a blue that had been declawed on her front paws, had passed judgment on me, and when I reached in toward her for a final scritch after she had treated to her personal space, she punched my hand. Since I was looking for a cat who would get along well with Primary Cat, I wrote this ill-tempered brat off as a cat that was wrong for the household and continued my search. Unbeknownst to me, this was apparently a signal to the brat cat that I was trainable, or at the very least, I understood what a "back off" signal was, and that meant I was a person who might be worth adopting. My ex told me that while I was looking at all of the other cats and trying to figure out if any of them would be a cat to come home with me, Auxiliary Cat 2.0, Brat Cat, was following me around the cat house. This only became apparent to me when I was sitting in the room with the cats that need some additional peace and quiet in their households, trying to decide whether I wanted to bring home a void named Sabre. (They pronounced her name "Sahb-reh" rather than as the name of the sword. If I brought Sabre home, I was going to pronounce her name like the sword rather than that oddity.) As I was contemplating whether Sabre would get along with Primary Cat, Auxiliary Cat 2.0 marched into the room through the open door, jumped up into my lap, and began purring at me with a look at said "Well?" Apparently, the question of which cat I was going home with had already been decided, and I was the last to know. But, in the same way that I took the hint earlier, I took the hint here, and Auxiliary Cat 2.0 came home with me.
She was food-aggressive, which I would later discover, when I had the resources to get a check-up on her (rather than fret about my inability to pay for the checkups,) was the result of a thyroid imbalance. Cats do not generally raid trash cans for cheese powder or try to lick butter papers normally, no matter what Jorts has taught us. So one of the first things I did as I stabilized was to make her a radioactive cat, and now that her thyroid is back in line, she's much less aggressive about food, and prefers to yell at us when it's time to feed her (which is about an hour or so before the humans actually feed her to her annoyance.)
The reason this cat came with me and no other is because she's the only cat that my ex agreed was "my cat" rather than "our cat." When I was sleeping on the futon (rather than the bed, because my ex rarely slept on the bed and she wanted me to be nearby for sleeping), there was a certain amount of detente between Primary Cat and Auxiliary Cat 2.0. One of them would sleep on my chest, the other at my ankles, and so long as neither cat saw each other and was required to acknowledge the existence of the other cat, it would work. Eventually, Auxiliary Cat 2.0 would win the conflict and become the cat that would most often sleep on me as I slept. She still does this, and it has been part of her management of me that when it starts getting late at night and time for the humans to be sleeping, she'll start aggressively herding me toward the bedroom. Shortly after I lay down on the bed and cover up with a blanket, she'll appear, make biscuits on my legs or bladder, then lay down and go to sleep until it's time for patrol. When I wake up in the morning, she's there on me, ready to yell at me that it's time to feed her, but also ready to lay back down on me and have a snooze together. While she's not greeting me at the door when I get back from work, because of the current timeshare agreement between her and Housemate Cat (they are both cats who do not want to acknowledge the existence of other cats and will fight), that was a common practice, where she would perk up at the sound of my returning car and go to a door, or so I am told.
I love this cat very much, and I will be devastated when it is her time to leave us, but for now, each day that we are together, I am always becatted for at least some part of the day. It's a comforting part of the routine of the day, and also, I think, an example of what they say is the unconditional love of a pet. (It's conditional, but the conditions are meetable - food, water, clean litter, taking care of medical conditions, play time and love.) So, y'know, I can't be all evil, right, if my cat loves me.
- becatted (not comparable)
- Held down by one or more cats sitting or sleeping on you on a bed or in a chair.
I have had cats in my life for most of my life after college. My ex liked to collect them, after the first session where we fostered a mother and her litter of kittens. Mother and two kittens were adopted out, and we kept the other two kittens. Primary Cat was a tabby with a nature that didn't like being chased around and would often climb a cat tree and hiss when any of the other cats would want to play and chase her. She, however, liked chasing toys, including the red dot, when she had the opportunity and it was unlikely another cat would also join in the chasing. For the most part, she was the cat who wasn't as adventurous as the others. She is one of the reasons why I wish my ex health and wellness, because I want Primary Cat to live a full and properly taken care of life.
Auxiliary Cat 1.0, Primary Cat's brother, was adventurous, playful, and loved to explore. He was the reason the dog flaps were sealed up at my ex's house, when I discovered him wandering in the back yard while supervising the dogs. He was also the one who willingly came down the stairs when we left the recreational vehicle door open, which I noticed from the top of the vehicle and mentioned to the people in the ground so they could get him back inside. Unfortunately for all of us, he had a heart condition, and by the time I finally got wise that he was not just being shy and that his hiding was, in fact, the thing that cats do when they are vulnerable and don't want to be easy prey, it was too late to do anything for him. He was only three when he left us, and we tested Primary Cat to be sure she didn't have the same problem (she didn't.) I still miss him, and wonder what it might have been like if there had been competence and enough money to catch his problem earlier and possibly treat it correctly when it would have been more likely to work.
For a short while, the ex and I fostered an older cat, but the older cat had intestinal issues with diarrhea and could not use the litter box reliably enough to keep her without a massive amount of laundry necessary to keep her in clean sheets for her cage. Sweet, loving cat, but too much maintenance for what we could provide.
Tertiary Cat, another tabby (or possibly a calico, I forget) came because my ex fashioned cat houses out of polystyrene containers and had extension cords running so there would be warm electric beds inside those containers for cats to come in from the cold. Tertiary Cat was a regular of the outdoor beds and, after we checked to make sure she was free of viruses and other pathogens, she came in to avoid continued fights with Neighbor Cat 1.0 at the time. (There has always been a Neighbor Cat, even when the neighbors changed, and regardless of which version, Neighbor Cat has always been interested in fighting other cats she sees and singing the song of her people.) I named her after a concept related to Fate, because I knew as soon as she arrived and stuck around, she was going to be an indoor adopted cat. (And then proceeded to insist on the correct spelling of the term, rather than altering it to include a Z so that all of the cats that were eventually part of the indoor household had a Z in their name.) Tertiary Cat was fine, did not cause trouble, and got along well with other cats, as much as possible. I had no objections to her specifically, but I also didn't want to take care of more than two cats at a time, and had said as much. My ex, the one who made me say no directly before she would accept it and who would then get upset that I had said no, respected my wishes about only two cats as much as she respected most of my other wishes about making the relationship work and keeping expenses within income, or at least somewhere in the ballpark of within income. So there was always going to be Tertiary Cat inside, and I named her because I was resigned to my fate on the matter.
Quarternary Cat, the West Wind, was an adorable void with a knotted tail who absolutely got out of someone's house and was wandering when I first met him. How do I know this? He jumped into the back seat of the car when I had the door open and was loading it. It was clear at that point, in addition to his general friendliness, that he had been around people enough not to fear them and seemed pretty intent on getting someone to take care of him. While I knew it was extremely likely that he would become part of the menagerie, I felt it was safest for us to take him in so that when a lost cat poster appeared in the neighborhood for him, we could contact the house that lost him and return him to them. No such posters ever materialized. Since I had made peace with the likelihood that he would be joining us, and already rationalized to myself that a fourth cat had not much more marginal cost than the third that had already been foisted on me, there were four indoor cats to feed and figure out logistics for at that point in time. Quarternary Cat was all kitten and all playtime. He loved to chase, he lived to play with toys, he really enjoyed pouncing and nipping, and he was the cause of most of the other cats growing and treeing themselves to try and get away from his boundless energy and desire to play with all the other cats. The other cats used their words and their actions to explain how little they were interested in playing with the little one, but he kept trying to be a social kitten all the same, and to play all of those games that kittens and cats are supposed to play. And no lost cat poster ever came up. He was a delight to have around, even though he didn't understand why everyone else around him was so cranky.
We eventually also adopted Neighbor Cat 1.0, although strictly was an outside cat, after the neighbor to the south what she was left abruptly and left her behind. She was already coming over and availing herself of the outdoor cat enclosures, anyway, so we mostly just kept taking care of her in that regard.
Which brings us to Auxiliary Cat 2.0. She's is the only cat of my experience who is mine and still with me today. All the other cats who were alive when my ex moved out left with my ex, who had the laughable belief that she would do better taking care of them than I would. For their sakes, I hope my ex stays alive and healthy until all of them have passed on after full and pampered lives, but there was no way that she could do it without help.
After Auxiliary Cat 1.0's early exit from life, I wanted to make sure Primary Cat had a companion to continue to play and get along with, so we went to a house that had been converted into a car shelter by the agency that ran out, and I got to see and pet and listen to all sorts of cats to see if we could find one that would be compatible with Primary Cat. One of the cats in the house, a blue that had been declawed on her front paws, had passed judgment on me, and when I reached in toward her for a final scritch after she had treated to her personal space, she punched my hand. Since I was looking for a cat who would get along well with Primary Cat, I wrote this ill-tempered brat off as a cat that was wrong for the household and continued my search. Unbeknownst to me, this was apparently a signal to the brat cat that I was trainable, or at the very least, I understood what a "back off" signal was, and that meant I was a person who might be worth adopting. My ex told me that while I was looking at all of the other cats and trying to figure out if any of them would be a cat to come home with me, Auxiliary Cat 2.0, Brat Cat, was following me around the cat house. This only became apparent to me when I was sitting in the room with the cats that need some additional peace and quiet in their households, trying to decide whether I wanted to bring home a void named Sabre. (They pronounced her name "Sahb-reh" rather than as the name of the sword. If I brought Sabre home, I was going to pronounce her name like the sword rather than that oddity.) As I was contemplating whether Sabre would get along with Primary Cat, Auxiliary Cat 2.0 marched into the room through the open door, jumped up into my lap, and began purring at me with a look at said "Well?" Apparently, the question of which cat I was going home with had already been decided, and I was the last to know. But, in the same way that I took the hint earlier, I took the hint here, and Auxiliary Cat 2.0 came home with me.
She was food-aggressive, which I would later discover, when I had the resources to get a check-up on her (rather than fret about my inability to pay for the checkups,) was the result of a thyroid imbalance. Cats do not generally raid trash cans for cheese powder or try to lick butter papers normally, no matter what Jorts has taught us. So one of the first things I did as I stabilized was to make her a radioactive cat, and now that her thyroid is back in line, she's much less aggressive about food, and prefers to yell at us when it's time to feed her (which is about an hour or so before the humans actually feed her to her annoyance.)
The reason this cat came with me and no other is because she's the only cat that my ex agreed was "my cat" rather than "our cat." When I was sleeping on the futon (rather than the bed, because my ex rarely slept on the bed and she wanted me to be nearby for sleeping), there was a certain amount of detente between Primary Cat and Auxiliary Cat 2.0. One of them would sleep on my chest, the other at my ankles, and so long as neither cat saw each other and was required to acknowledge the existence of the other cat, it would work. Eventually, Auxiliary Cat 2.0 would win the conflict and become the cat that would most often sleep on me as I slept. She still does this, and it has been part of her management of me that when it starts getting late at night and time for the humans to be sleeping, she'll start aggressively herding me toward the bedroom. Shortly after I lay down on the bed and cover up with a blanket, she'll appear, make biscuits on my legs or bladder, then lay down and go to sleep until it's time for patrol. When I wake up in the morning, she's there on me, ready to yell at me that it's time to feed her, but also ready to lay back down on me and have a snooze together. While she's not greeting me at the door when I get back from work, because of the current timeshare agreement between her and Housemate Cat (they are both cats who do not want to acknowledge the existence of other cats and will fight), that was a common practice, where she would perk up at the sound of my returning car and go to a door, or so I am told.
I love this cat very much, and I will be devastated when it is her time to leave us, but for now, each day that we are together, I am always becatted for at least some part of the day. It's a comforting part of the routine of the day, and also, I think, an example of what they say is the unconditional love of a pet. (It's conditional, but the conditions are meetable - food, water, clean litter, taking care of medical conditions, play time and love.) So, y'know, I can't be all evil, right, if my cat loves me.
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