Such an expressive face. Harris finds there's trouble in his perfect little world....
We are doing our best to give Harris all the reassurance, attention, and love that cats like him crave and deserve. But his criminal activities suggest that we have spoiled him, so having another Baby in the house might turn out to be good for his character development.
We need to make our decision about the Lion soon. Robin at Kitten Associates is suggesting that she come up to get him this Sunday or Monday. My husband and I have discussed a long list of reasons why this is a good idea. But I'm still not sure we can part with him. Lion spent much of last night sleeping on me or cuddling under my chin. (He spent the previous night biting my husband's toes through the Siberian-weight comforter; I had to tell him the next morning that this was not a way to win my husband's heart. He is a quick learner.)
The Lion likes to play with Toffee. They chase each other and gallop around the apartment. I caught Lion lying on top of Toffee last night, with his paws wrapped around his neck, biting him in hopes of dominating him, as cats do. If Toffee could have rolled his eyes at me, he would have. But he allowed Lion to have his way. Toffee is a good sport.
I had a talk with Possum about Lion today. He didn't have much to say and I did not mention this conversation we'd had on the subject in December:
I pointed out to him that he has a wonderful life. He has good food, friends, shelter, adoring people, lots of toys, and windows, and cozy sleeping spots. I reminded him that there are many cats and kittens in far worse situations, living as strays outside, being abused or neglected, or waiting on death row in "shelters" that don't deserve that name.
"That's true, and very important to remember," he replied. "And since I'm 'only' a cat, there's nothing I can do to help them. But what's your excuse? We have plenty here to share. We're loaded, as you just said. We'd love to save a life and make a new friend. Go and bring home somebody that really needs us, and we boys will take care of all the rest. Including Wendy. Please."
"But, Possum," I said (although I was very moved), "Everyone tells me that four cats is our limit in this little apartment. They warn me that you'll all start behaving badly... fighting, and not using the litter box, and so on. Everybody says five is one too many, and that Wendy will become more nervous than ever."
Possum did not reply. He just gave me a disgusted look and stalked off, as if I had insulted his honor and his family. And I suppose I had.
Whom to believe? My vet, my instincts, and all of my cat-expert friends — or the cat who talks to me?
While I didn't repeat any of this, I think Possum must have remembered, because he finally gave the Lion a couple of tiny, indifferent licks on his ear as I sat with them. I wonder if he is not warming up to Lion as I'd hoped because he's so cute and adoptable. Maybe Possum wanted us to bring home a harder case: special-needs cat, a sick cat, or a senior who would have a tough time getting adopted. Food for thought. But some rescuers point out that every cat who gets a home creates an opening at a shelter or foster home for another cat to be saved. And every cat deserves a good home, including ones that look like crazy little pandas.
It will be interesting to see what Possum says about that. And my husband, too.