How often have you heard people say animals don’t have distinct personalities? Frankly, I worry about those people. And I feel sorry for them. Obviously they have not made space in their hearts for one of our little creatures, our little 4 legged cousins. (For the sake of brevity, I will not get into fish, birds, or reptiles as pets – since mostly I feel sorry for them trapped forever in a prison of glass or bars.)
I have been owned by numerous cats. Many of them have been seen here on this blog. Some have lived in the house exclusively, some outside… and, as most of you know, in the last year or so, the cat population has greatly decreased here… cancer, old age, kidney failure… same complaints the humans have, it seems. Most of my kitties live a pretty long time, the longest being Fino that I had from 1971 until 1992, and she was full grown when she followed me home! All have been rescued, or just simply arrived at my door. Sometimes, however, I wonder who has rescued whom, as they have always been there for me in my times of great sorry and need.
A couple years ago (well, almost) a friend, Charlie, discovered someone had left a present on his land, 2 young kittens, about 3 months old, left on a baby sized blanket at the edge of his woods, left with a little plate of food, left to wait for the human who never came back to get them. Instead, I got a phone call, grabbed a cage, and set off for Charlie’s. At the time, I had 4 cats of my own here, 2 inside, 2 outside, and knew introducing 2 new boys to my resident boys would result in a major cat fight! That would not be fair to anyone, so we agreed they would live in Charlie’s shop until there was a vacancy here.
And as you know if you have read much on here, I’ve lost all but Spook, so, Rusty (who needed vet care) came home first.
Rusty is not a healthy little fellow… my first words to the vet when we took them in from Charlie’s woods were, “If it looks like he might not make it, just put him down now before I get attached to him.” Barrett asked how long I had had the little guy… I answered, “15 minutes.” So, you see, I already knew this would probably be a very special (and sickly) little boy! He had a couple months of antibiotics and eye drops, and survived, somehow. He is lame, runs with an obvious limp, sometimes it seems his feet aren’t sure where they are going. He can fall trying to jump up on the sofa. It is a shame to laugh at him when he tries to run across the linoleum on the kitchen floor and he looks like those poor critters slipping and sliding as their feet go out from under them as they try to run across ice.
But Oh what a love bug! Like Rascal, his first job in the morning is to climb up into my lap, interrupt whatever I am doing, and rub his nose all over my chin, cheek, neck, and wrap his little paws around my neck. If you come to visit, I promise you he will be in your lap whether you want it or not. If you don’t, you need to say so immediately so I can lock him in the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, he curls up in the sink and takes a nap, but with one ear open to listen for that door. In the living room, he has taken over the couch, tho sometimes a chair feels good. I think we had one week of no towels covering the furniture. It just did not look like my house at all! So, back to normal. Did I mention he likes wearing his scarf?
His other favorite thing is to sit on a stool and look out the door at the birds. He is kind of clumsy getting up into the windows, so I put the stool by the storm door for him.
It’s funny the toys different cats pick as their favorites. Rusty seems to enjoy this ancient mini-basketball my god-daughter used to play with when she was in first grade. She is now quite grown and finished with school!
If I had to describe Rusty in one word, that word would be innocent. Few people can say that about their cats, they often seem to have some hidden agenda. Rusty’s agenda is to be loved, hugged, cuddled even before eating. Which reminds me, I am teaching him Turkish, just for the fun of it. When I call “Yemek hazır*,” he comes running! Now that is different! His least favorite thing is getting his pills, but in time, I am sure he will get used to it, because I have a feeling it will be a life-time ordeal for him if he doesn’t.
In another week, we will try to bring his brother Dusty here (after the painter is done in the Big bathroom.) We tried that once and he ran from window to window. I was afraid he would hurt himself. But, we will try again. Dusty likes to be held, too, but is not the love bug Rusty is. I will keep you posted!
*Dinner is ready.