Loki taunted me with his needy demands for play and attention, sticking it to me with paws full of claws each time I failed to respond properly.
And when I turned away in a feeble attempt to protect myself?
He paused, front legs perched upon my legs and within easy striking distance of my whole self.
Birds flitting about the patio caught his attention, drew his devilish stare, broke his mischievous attacks.
I was thankful.
Or not so much.
And on the other side of this mayhem?
That’s right! It’s the devil himself.
You can see the chaos engendered by Larenti‘s addition to the xenogere home.
Grendel has erred on the side of dominance, something I’m working on without causing too much stress in the natural pecking order. His behavior has surprised me a wee bit, although not horribly given he’s the alpha male. Still, he’s been a bit “Gonna kick your ass!” lately, at least from time to time (okay, I can count these instances on less than three fingers, but still. . .).
As for Loki, he’s rather uncaring about it all, careful not to push Larenti’s buttons or cause too much disorder, yet not entirely restrained or concerned. He gives the new kid a bit of wiggle room, but otherwise he is who he is.
Vazra seems completely unconcerned. Mind you, he knew Larenti long before his own rescue, let alone this most recent adoption from the streets. In fact, I’ve seen Vazra and Larenti playing in the most comfortable of ways. They’ve brought many a smile to my face with their beer-buddy antics.
Kazon has taken it all in stride. While he generally gives Larenti all the room he needs to be comfortable, he’s also enjoyed several rounds of cat-chase-cat with his new sibling. Add to that his unending desire to be friends with everyone. Needless to say, nothing of concern has cropped up in their interactions.
But then comes Kako. Her bitchy attention suddenly finds Vazra quite acceptable. Whereas he had been the outcast in her eyes since his adoption, Larenti’s presence has offered a new target for her “Get out of my house!” attitude. I suspect that will take some time before it smooths out, or at least becomes less hostile.
As for Larenti, he’s coming along nicely. He day by day grows more comfortable. At first, he wouldn’t leave the cat carrier in the bathroom. Eventually, he came out of that phase and began exploring his new world. Now he sleeps in the bedroom with the rest of The Kids. He doesn’t frighten as easily. He lets the rest of us walk near him without fleeing. He talks incessantly and expects his morning lovin’ just like the rest of the spoiled brats in this household.
Progress? You betcha!
[please excuse the quality of the photos; my camera increasingly offers me nothing but headaches; more on that later]
“Cats are absolute individuals, with their own ideas about everything, including the people they own.”
— John Dingham
[Loki]
[Loki]
We all have our habits, little ruts into which we fall that become comfortable things we wear. Never have I found this to be more important than with cats. Felines, you see, are creatures of habit, masters of stability who rely on predictable patterns. Through these routines they enjoy less stress. Stress is a cat’s worst enemy, so I support our home’s habits insofar as I’m able.
One such habit stems from my morning customs, from brushing my teeth to shaving (on those days when I do so). But it all starts with The Kids.
The moment I’m awake, and too often long before then, the patterns take shape. We lie in bed and play and pet and rub and talk. We get out of bed and play and pet and rub and talk. Then we play and pet and rub and talk even more while I’m trying to start the day.
Once it’s time to go in the bathroom, however, I can rely on all manner of assistance.
Loki happens to enjoy his bathroom counter time with Daddy. Others have similar desires, yes, but he’s the one I’m talking about today.
Understand there’s very little room during these moments for what Daddy wants or needs. No, it all has to do with Loki.
Keep in mind he sometimes resists being awake even though he’s demanding that his will trump my own.
If necessary, he gleefully tosses my razor to the floor, intercepts my arm while I’m trying to brush my teeth, or stands between me and the sink so he’s not ignored. As if!
And when I acquiesce and give him all the attention he wants in that moment, eventually he steps aside and makes himself comfortable. He’s never far enough from the action that he can’t intrude and molest.
Amazingly, I love these habits, these ruts we share. I know they need such episodes to feel stable and sound. Nothing in me would deny them such comforts knowing they are happier and healthier cats because of them.