"they're close to vermin, aren't they?"

Posted on Posted in illustrated, journal, max, pre-crash

Kudos to my grandfather, also affectionately known as Cyberpop, for the subject line. His observation on watching the two kittens slinking and racing through the house for the past couple of days.

Arrived home late last night. Due to a mix-up by the airline staff when we booked in, we were waiting for our poor little kitten in the wrong place. When we finally found him he was sitting in his carry case at the side of a busy heavy-freight driveway. Poor little mite. He was distressed by the experience, but coped well enough. The really distressing part of the day was arriving home and being excited to see a new cat — who promptly spat and snarled and hissed and growled at him. First time I'd seen him actually frightened. He is now leery of all other cats, including that strange little mimicky brown cat in the mirrors.

Since then things have improved, sort of. Mum's cat won't come near the kitten, and growls and mutters and hisses if he comes too close. She has also taken to speaking to any available human in a high-pitched squeak which I presume translates to I hate it! We don't need it! It's horrible!, or something along those lines.

The kitten has also met the rabbit, whom he hates and loathes. (This may change when the kitten is larger than the rabbit, of course.) The poor rabbit is disappointed yet again in his quest for a friend that a) he likes, b) likes him back, and c) I won't object to their playing together.

There will be photos soon, when I get around to resizing and uploading and that sort of joy. I promise. Honest. In the meantime, to give you an idea of Max's temperament (and what he is doing right now):

Max sleeps

10 thoughts on “"they're close to vermin, aren't they?"

  1. EEEEEEEEEE!!!!

    Pity about the initial reception, but Mama cat will warm up eventually.

    Look at that fat belly!

  2. Mama cat is, it turns out, a grumpy old woman. At the moment we're not even contemplating a miracle of her warming to him. We're hoping for the lesser miracle of her one day tolerating him. And that little belly has gotten even fatter! I am going to own the world's first fat burmese 😕

  3. I've observed that our cat Audrey doesn't keep the mice and rats down by actively hunting them so much as occupying their niche in the household ecology.

  4. Hi Andrew. Neither of our cats really have the hunt and kill instinct. Hunt and play is different, but killing? Not so much. That means the play stops, you see. (This is what happens after decades if not centuries of breeding, I suppose. Burmese cats really can't be trusted near a road, or strangers.)

  5. Sophie warmed to Sam. Most of the time she tolerates him, but sometimes she actively plays with him. Which seems to mostly involve the two of them tearing around the house madly.

    I'm all about fat bellies in baby animals. When i first got Sam, he was nothing but belly. Most animals grow into their paws, but he grew into his belly.

  6. Well and so maybe there really is hope for Mama cat. I shall cross my fingers and continue to reassure her and hope she warms to the kitten before the kitten is big enough to think he's her boss.

  7. Audrey is a tortoiseshell. She scavenges. Seriously, I've never seen anything like it. She has a circuit that she does around the kitchen, scoffling up any stray crumbs. And let's not even talk about her telekinetic ability to make food fall from the table in front of her. There just isn't anything left over for the rodents. They have to make do with the compost bin in the yard.

  8. See, that is a fantastic trait. That means you get a nice companion without all that icky bloodshed. Or the leaving of rodents on pillows as a present, which one of our cats (a rescued stray) did regularly. I suspect the new kitten may perform a similar function as Audrey: his eating habits put a Hoover to shame.

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