Tail

"Vans usually have their tails in motion - in every direction imaginable a habit that is known as "flouncing". The tails seem to function totally on their own. Even when the cat is asleep, its tail remains active and the cat will eventually grab its own tail and pin it under its legs for a more peaceful nap."
-Turkish Van, Swimming Cats
Flushing cat video.


Moby is certainly not a Van, Turkish or otherwise. Not a spot of white on him, a thick undercoat. And Vans are rare. He does play with his water, and doesn't seem to mind a bit of wet, will stick his head under the stream when we pour water into his bowl. We've never seen him flush, but then, we keep the lid down.

His tail does flounce as described above. His shortish, muscular tail, that makes me wonder if he has a touch of Manx, flicks and curls, wags and wriggles. Only when he seems most deeply asleep is it quiet at all. It perks up and curls at the end when we call his name, even when he is busy doing other cat things that we can't understand, and therefore can't stop right now, sorry. We saw him once trying to nap, when the tail was dancing in front of his nose. He irritably reached out a paw and stopped it, as if to say "Cut it out, you."

Sometimes I hold his tail loosely in my fist, feeling the twitch and thrum. Moby seems not to mind.

Over the last two years, we have formed a deep friendship with him. He knows he can trust us, a simple squirm, and he will be set down gently. He will be let out of the bag eventually, Vets are kind to him, and he will come home afterward. He will never be left in a place with dogs and rabbits and other animals for two months, ill with worms and a cold, though well fed, and the people were kind. He knows we never hurt him intentionally, and when a foot hits him, we will apologize and let him hide for a while. Often, chicken will follow.

We, in turn, have learned to trust him. If he puts his claws out, we leave our hand there, and he does not dig in, but retracts, and licks an apology. We rub his tum gently when he is in the mood, but do not play that way, so he does not feel threatened to the point of defending himself with teeth and hind legs thrashing.

We think about him in that shelter. They were careful about sending him home with us, as they told us they were careful about black cats. More so around Halloween. They wanted him to have a home, not be sacrificed. We saw him on the shelter website, and thought him ideal. When we met him, they let us be in a caged area with him. I held him, and he squirmed away, looking for "out", without putting a claw on me. D remembers him climbing over his shoulder, with the same gentle urgency. We knew we would have to earn his affection. We were both hooked. A cat like both of us, not easily won over, no surface shinola, but without malice. We were told his first owner had brought him in because he was at work so much, he did not feel he could take good care of him. It sounds like an excuse, but it feels true enough.

He knows he has taught us well, attentive to feline wisdom. We amuse him, with our strange habits, like never leaving the house once, but always coming back in before leaving. As he amuses us. He likes us to chuckle.

All our quirks together, there is love at home.