When we sat down last October to adopt our four month old babies, Katy and Pastel, we had only about an hour with them before we chose them. Pastel was easy.
Her coat feels like silk and she has an amazing dividing line between gray and peachy pinky white down the middle of her face, making her possum-like. Or as if she has an exoskeleton. She has exactly the coloring of Katy, a typical calico, only Pastel’s colors were stirred a bit before baking. Her spots turned to textures, and the black and the caramel brown lost their intensity. Makes sense: she is a dilute calico.
She has a third eyelid problem with one eye, and we are on the road to that solution.
Katy is beautiful, and stockier than Pastel. They are women of their times as they both have green tattoos on their abdomen. These tattoos contain no written message: the shapes warn unknown vets, “I have been fixed, don’t bother.”
As we started the paperwork, the adoption counselor noticed that Katy had already been adopted and returned. That thought was interesting to me, but at that point we did not know the little standoffish Katy the way we do now. I thought it was a better than ever reason to adopt her.
Katy does not cuddle, which is probably why she was returned. And if we had only one cat, it would have to be a cuddler. But we have two, and both can be who they need to be. We pet Katy often during the day so she will get used to love, and that we don’t expect anything from her. We tell her she is smart and beautiful.
This is the thing about Katy. I have never seen a cat so in love with her water.
Above is the beloved water bowl. It is sitting on a pet mat that my friend Zoe had manufactured. It is a patchwork of the images on some of the various patterns of linoleum I found, one beneath another, when renovating our old house. The rose pattern seen here is from the thirties. We got the first sample created.
Katy sits with her arms around this water bowl. She stares at it with love. She pats the water, then she drinks. She runs when she hears water running, exploring the myriad of sources in the house. She is in heaven. At the pool, she pats the water from the side. I wonder if she sees her reflection out there. She does not in the sink, tested it.
And of course Katy does not come inside at night until Pastel is accounted for and in. Pastel is the identified baby of the family and Katy runs herd. It is her job, and the way she loves. The cuddling will come around.
Meanwhile, Pastel realizes she needs a raison d’etre as well. Secretarial.