I type this with only the glow of my computer screen and the light from the Christmas tree illuminating the room. It’s quiet. Not silent because I hear the fish tank gurgling in the background, and far away the furnace rumbles, but it’s pretty quiet. I am snuggled under the blanket I like to call the Little Touch of Heaven blanket because it’s so, so soft. As I type, the black cat lays curled on my lap. She likes the Little Touch of Heaven a much as I do.
Her brother, the gray cat, will love up anyone who has food or will turn on the faucet for him to drink (he’s one of those cats that prefers running water). The gray one will let my husband pick him up, roll him over, trim his toenails, rub his tummy. As long as he’s got food, he’s happy. The black cat, though, is just as likely to swipe at you from the shelter of a piece of furniture as you walk by as she is to let you pet her. She doesn’t let just anybody touch her. She hides from people, slinking around in the shadows, until she’s sure the dogs and kids and Andrew are all asleep for the night. Then she comes out and sits on my lap. I keep telling Andrew that she can’t be pursued. She has to be wooed. She has to come to us on her own terms.
In our house, the girls are feisty, and this includes the cat. This cat’s got spunk. When she was a kitten, just a few months old, she fought the dog for the first time. The dog cornered her, barking and snarling, and that cat leaned back against the couch and let go. All four paws and every one of those claws tore into that dog. I saw actual fur flying off the dog. I’ve never seen anything like it. She may have been scared, but she wasn’t backing down! I can’t help but admire her jungle instincts.
When we first got these two, they were tiny kittens. Every morning when we woke up, we found electronics with gnawed-up cords. They were still plugged in, and one of the kittens had gnawed the cords in half. We weren’t sure at the time which one did the damage, but I know now. It was the sister. I mean, who else would dare chew up something that might electrocute them? Only the spunky one would attempt such a thing…and succeed.
What’s odd is that she’s got this feisty side that attacks and claws and can turn a dog on its heels, but when I sit down like this, quiet and calm, she sneaks up and cuddles me. Not just that, but she sniffs me, gets right in my face and examines me, licks me a few times, almost as if she’s making sure I’m ok before she settles down on my lap.
You know what? I feel particularly satisfied when this cat visits me. She doesn’t choose everyone, but she chooses me. Someone who doesn’t like everyone likes me. And I’m glad.