The Cat Who Wasn't There

Of our raggle-taggle band of felines, only one of them was "on purpose".  The manfriend and I decided on adopting a kitten one snowy February day and trotted on down to the Humane Society (I wasn't working there at the time) to find only two kittens ready for homes (I have since learned that because mom cats can bring themselves into heat when conditions are best for them, most kittens come to be in the summer months).  The one kitten chomped his way out of our hands, while the other one perched shyly in our arms and purred.  So home came Marley...

Marley turned three this year, and is quite friendly to us, but a high and mighty cow to most other people.  Female cats. Yeesh.

Marley was our only "planned" cat adoption. The story of the Stubcat you already know; I want to tell you about our third puss: The Invisible Cat.

As a new-ish employee of a Humane Society, I was doing my best not to fall in love with everything that came through the door.  It's a good skill to develop in there, or your heart will be constantly broken (or you'll be some crazy old hoarder with 500 cats).  Anyhow, I was doing well in that regard, until I walked into the Observation Room one day and saw...

...this!  A boggle-eyed chub of a kitten who was in quarantine for biting or scratching the person who found her and pulled her out of construction site rubble to bring her in.  Any animal who bites or scratches to draw blood (on purpose or by accident) needs to be quarantined for ten days for rabies.  I'd find odd moments to duck in and visit this little cutie, who would stare at me upside down from her shelf with her big saucer eyes and mew.  The whole building was stuffed with cute cats, but this one...well...there was something about this one.

After her ten days were up with no signs of frothing at the mouth Cujo-style, she was moved to the Stray Room and had a big fat FOSTER sign slapped on her card.  And the die was cast...

I was fostering two other kittens at the time; two gray tabby siblings who had come down with URI (aka the sniffles), and it took a bit of shuffling to keep everyone separate.

The newcomer, dubbed "Panda" due to her resemblance to the chubbular-shaped Kung Fu Panda, had problems of her own; namely, coccidia protozoa nibbling away at her small intestine and making her litter box offerings quite swampy.  Once the grays (Mika and Milo) stopped sneezing, and Panda's plumbing was fixed, they were all overjoyed to mingle.

I loved them all, but something about that big-headed brown tabby...

It's an all too sad reality that cute kittens grow awfully quickly. The same was true of my little trio, and in what seemed like no time, they were due to go back to the shelter to be fixed and then put up for adoption.

Wherever Milo and Mika ended up, I hope that they are spoiled and happy. As for Panda, I only have to look down to see how she's doing...

So this is supposed to be the part where I make reference to "happily ever after" and so on. Not quite so.

Panda is...odd.  She was a super shy kitten, and me being (at the time) a super-n00b-foster-mum, didn't realize that you have to snuggle the shite out of the shy ones to make them friendly.  People who have come over several times are astounded to learn that we have three cats.  Visitors scare the bejeebus out of her, and she can usually be found wedged under the bed or crouching at the back of the closet when people come over.  She hangs out with me, barely tolerates the Manfriend, and loves other cats, dogs, and especially new foster kittens.

She hates being picked up.

Tolerates minimal petting before hightailing it out of there.

Has NEVER sat on my lap.

Runs at the least inclination of attention on our parts.

Not exactly the ideal cat, eh? And yet, that something that made me bring her home as a foster attracts me to her today.  She is adorable, with big big big eyes, a tiny disapproving mouth and chubby body.

Stubs and Chubs (Heh. Thanks, Ian!)

She loves to play with toys, as long as you aren't pushy about it; you need to entice her to chase balls or string.  She's an amazing help with new foster kittens, as she will wrestle with them and sit with them for hours.  She loves to play with our cats and even rubs against the dogs.  It's just people that scare her. A lot.

She likes me best, but if I pick her up (if I can catch her, that is), she goes tense with fear, and struggles wildly to escape.  I'm not sure what she thinks I'm going to do to her, but she is convinced she doesn't want any part of it. Perhaps I'm not helping her fears, but I leave her alone. Let her do her own thing, and try my best to love her despite her invisibility.

As a reward for not pushing too hard, she hangs around me a lot, and mews and purrs and rolls around while kneading the nearest surface.  When utterly delighted, she'll jump up and headbutt the wall quite loudly and repeatedly. She likes to be talked to, and will "chat" back.  At night, she may sneak onto the bed and I'll wake up to her curled up against my legs.  She loves to be close by, but one wrong move and she's gone.

Maybe not the ideal cat, but she's my girl, and I love her.