If you stare long into the void cat…
Tuesday, July 30th, 2024 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flwyd… the void cat stares back at you.
On the first weekend of last July we got Pearl from the Boulder Humane Society. A slim gray cat with splotches of white and dull orange, she might camouflage well in a boulderfield. They told us she'd probably had a litter of kittens, and had been sent from Texas, which apparently is the source of a lot of shelter cats. Yet another teen mother fleeing Texas for Colorado for better reproductive health care. A teen in cat years, she was long and lanky, with an unusual running gait of paws crossing in front of each other. It took some time to get her comfortable with close human contact.
As an adult Pearl is still long, but looks less like a teenager trying to grow into her own body. She's comfortable with her two humans, but on her terms: she doesn't like to be picked up and hardly ever sits on a lap, though she often sleeps next to us in the bed. A cat with strong boundaries, like Kelly's first cat Joan. She rarely meows. She's a clever problem solver and a determined huntress: she caught four mice in two days this winter. She'll do incredible acrobatic maneuvers to catch a hair tie, and after defeating it in fierce battle she may carry it to her food bowl before eating a bit. This cat is not food motivated, she's hunt motivated.
We've long thought that Pearl would do well with a kitten adopted sibling as a partner in play. Humans can only shoot so many hair ties before they need to go to work or keep fussing with a laptop. Two cats can chase each other up and down the hall any time of day or night. We needed to wait for the right time though, "We'll be out of town for two weeks later this month" isn't good "introduce a new cat" timing. As coincidence would have it, "the first weekend of July" is apparently cat acquisition time around here. Maybe it's because the 4-day weekend provides enough time to clean enough of the house that a cat's not immediately going to get into object-oriented trouble.
The first kitten we played with was very into us, determined to play, fine with being held, and even hung out in my lap despite all the excitement. Black with a white toe, a white patch on her belly, and two white whiskers like a Fu Manchu beard. It seems odd to decide to live with a mammal for more than a decade after just half an hour of play, but she's worked out well so far. She didn't make much noise at the shelter but boy howdy did she holler whenever we left the room as she was adjusting to the house. She's the least hesitant cat when exploring new spaces that I've ever seen: as soon as she can break through the threshold she's never passed before she makes a beeline for who knows where, only stopping to sniff around once she's well beyond familiar territory. Our catsitter dubbed her Little Miss Runs-Like-Water." Time cycles are shorter for juvenile mammals and she can quickly transition from chase-every-toy-around-the-room to curl-up-and-purr-on-your-feet. During the first night her territory expanded from the closet to the bedroom she tried to nurse my beard, longing for the mother cat she didn't have. She realized the beard won't bear milk, but she still goes after my armpits. Curling up and purring on my chest while I lie in bed is absolutely adorable, though.
I've long thought that philosophers would make good cat names. This rambunctious kitten didn't seem like a Lao Zi, but Nietzsche seemed like an excellent choice for a void cat intent on fearlessly seeking discoveries in a world much different than what her parents knew.
Integration of the cats took a couple weeks. Pearl isn't very food-motivated, so attracting her to one side of a baby gate with treats wasn't a reliable strategy. Nietzsche's first several adventures outside the bedroom featured a lot of exploring while Pearl watched with suspicion and disapproval. They would tolerate each other's presence for awhile, then Nietzsche would do something rambunctious like jump towards her, Pearl would start bapping, and hissing would ensue; back to the bedroom. Wrangling cats took up most of the energy of the evening, and would've been completely overwhelming without two people.
Over the last week they've finally warmed to each other. There's still a lot of wrestling and bapping, but it seems to be claws-free and neither cat seems particularly upset about it. Nietzsche still has no fear and will charge Pearl in surprise, Pearl will strike back, Nietzsche adopts a submissive position, they reach an agreement, then Nietzsche withdraws and plans her next move. They'll both chase each other and can happily relax within a few feet of each other. They've got some time before they start snuggling each other, but there was some motherly forehead licking last night.
So now we've got a cat with strong boundaries and a cat that loves to break on through to the other side. A watcher cat and a doer cat. An independent cat and a lap cat. A cat that will chase any toy and a cat that wants the hair ties to fly just so. We've got a yin cat and a yang cat.
On the first weekend of last July we got Pearl from the Boulder Humane Society. A slim gray cat with splotches of white and dull orange, she might camouflage well in a boulderfield. They told us she'd probably had a litter of kittens, and had been sent from Texas, which apparently is the source of a lot of shelter cats. Yet another teen mother fleeing Texas for Colorado for better reproductive health care. A teen in cat years, she was long and lanky, with an unusual running gait of paws crossing in front of each other. It took some time to get her comfortable with close human contact.
As an adult Pearl is still long, but looks less like a teenager trying to grow into her own body. She's comfortable with her two humans, but on her terms: she doesn't like to be picked up and hardly ever sits on a lap, though she often sleeps next to us in the bed. A cat with strong boundaries, like Kelly's first cat Joan. She rarely meows. She's a clever problem solver and a determined huntress: she caught four mice in two days this winter. She'll do incredible acrobatic maneuvers to catch a hair tie, and after defeating it in fierce battle she may carry it to her food bowl before eating a bit. This cat is not food motivated, she's hunt motivated.
We've long thought that Pearl would do well with a kitten adopted sibling as a partner in play. Humans can only shoot so many hair ties before they need to go to work or keep fussing with a laptop. Two cats can chase each other up and down the hall any time of day or night. We needed to wait for the right time though, "We'll be out of town for two weeks later this month" isn't good "introduce a new cat" timing. As coincidence would have it, "the first weekend of July" is apparently cat acquisition time around here. Maybe it's because the 4-day weekend provides enough time to clean enough of the house that a cat's not immediately going to get into object-oriented trouble.
The first kitten we played with was very into us, determined to play, fine with being held, and even hung out in my lap despite all the excitement. Black with a white toe, a white patch on her belly, and two white whiskers like a Fu Manchu beard. It seems odd to decide to live with a mammal for more than a decade after just half an hour of play, but she's worked out well so far. She didn't make much noise at the shelter but boy howdy did she holler whenever we left the room as she was adjusting to the house. She's the least hesitant cat when exploring new spaces that I've ever seen: as soon as she can break through the threshold she's never passed before she makes a beeline for who knows where, only stopping to sniff around once she's well beyond familiar territory. Our catsitter dubbed her Little Miss Runs-Like-Water." Time cycles are shorter for juvenile mammals and she can quickly transition from chase-every-toy-around-the-room to curl-up-and-purr-on-your-feet. During the first night her territory expanded from the closet to the bedroom she tried to nurse my beard, longing for the mother cat she didn't have. She realized the beard won't bear milk, but she still goes after my armpits. Curling up and purring on my chest while I lie in bed is absolutely adorable, though.
I've long thought that philosophers would make good cat names. This rambunctious kitten didn't seem like a Lao Zi, but Nietzsche seemed like an excellent choice for a void cat intent on fearlessly seeking discoveries in a world much different than what her parents knew.
Integration of the cats took a couple weeks. Pearl isn't very food-motivated, so attracting her to one side of a baby gate with treats wasn't a reliable strategy. Nietzsche's first several adventures outside the bedroom featured a lot of exploring while Pearl watched with suspicion and disapproval. They would tolerate each other's presence for awhile, then Nietzsche would do something rambunctious like jump towards her, Pearl would start bapping, and hissing would ensue; back to the bedroom. Wrangling cats took up most of the energy of the evening, and would've been completely overwhelming without two people.
Over the last week they've finally warmed to each other. There's still a lot of wrestling and bapping, but it seems to be claws-free and neither cat seems particularly upset about it. Nietzsche still has no fear and will charge Pearl in surprise, Pearl will strike back, Nietzsche adopts a submissive position, they reach an agreement, then Nietzsche withdraws and plans her next move. They'll both chase each other and can happily relax within a few feet of each other. They've got some time before they start snuggling each other, but there was some motherly forehead licking last night.
So now we've got a cat with strong boundaries and a cat that loves to break on through to the other side. A watcher cat and a doer cat. An independent cat and a lap cat. A cat that will chase any toy and a cat that wants the hair ties to fly just so. We've got a yin cat and a yang cat.
