Moby loves him some wool, army blanket best of all.
Woke this morning to Moby walking on the bed. It took him a while, the first time, a few months after we got him home, to jump up when we were in bed. We'd been out of town a few days, unaware of how much we'd be missed. The friends who came to feed him had to sit by him so he would eat. He lost weight, and seemed to miss us far out of proportion to any previous evidence of affection. As we crashed after the red-eye flight, he snugged in at the very foot between our feet, and stayed.
So this morning, I laid near him and stroked him, as he relaxed and rolled over, pleased and comfortable. Trust and pleasure, and to be the source of this, earned over years in small increments, is a warm and lovely feeling. Never forgetting his week hiding under, under the sofa, under the bed, under the sink cabinet (4" clearance), after the trauma of the box home from the shelter. Not a cat to give love easily, no freebies, wait and watch warily. It took us a while to get used to each other, I learned not to shout - since that was just proof that this human was scary and out of control. D learned how to hold him. Moby learned that it was ok to be held, because just a gentle squirm resulted in his being gently placed down. He controlled it, so a good hug became enjoyable.
Likewise, we found that if we are petting him, and he gets anxious, he puts a back paw on the hand. Stillness and slow withdrawal, and Moby knows we are not a threat. And with his permission, he gets good belly rubs. When he is in full chase mode, we don't make our hands a target, and he is very good at avoiding laying claw to skin. Probably feels weird to him anyway. We've each had maybe a scratch or two over the last four years.
Early yesterday morning, he sat politely between us about elbow level, purring loudly. When this produced no result, he patted D's face.
"Hey, wake up. I want to eat and chase. Get up."
So, we did.
5 comments:
That's a lovely, gentle lesson in mutual trust and understanding.
I like the photograph, too.
My elderly dog, normally leading a sedate life with me, has exhibited a whole new range of behaviours in recent days, including break-dancing. This is all in response to my sons rewarding her with their attention and admiration. Oh, the power of testosterone!
And yummy treats given with energy!
We have the strangest kitties. The original two - brother and sister - were found as itty bitties with their mom in the back of my friend's garage; we took them when they were weaned. My girl, Te, had three kittens under our bed a year later (her brother, Tao, lost a race with a lumber truck about six years ago - we miss him still). None of the kittens - not one of them - is particularly affectionate and, while my Small One will consent to sit on a lap if he's picked up and put there, none of them will climb into a lap of their own volition (though they DO take up the ENTIRE foot of the bed - usually two at a time). Our suspicion is that they're not enough generations away from feral to understand the joys of being lap cats, but we love them anyway.
Lovely post, Zhoen.
When I sit on my couch, my black cat likes sit in my lap and place her front paws on my shoulders which looks much like a hug to friends visiting. She also likes to help me with e-mail and blog reading by situating herself squarely between the monitor and me. I try to wait her out until she finds another spot on the desk for Her Empress of the World self.
It struck me after your post about the FT--which I need to search out--that you and D might enjoy The Sun. Have you read it?
I think as far as cats are concerned, they say "I love you" by not biting and occasionally respecting your wishes.
I suppose if we voiced our surprise when they were worried about or missed us, they'd wonder just what more they could possibly do.
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