So with my fiance off to San Francisco, we went to drop Ozzy off at my parent’s for the week as I work full time. It worked out pretty well for him, if for no one else. My parent’s place is like Shangrila for dogs: big, private field to run around in, big house, Aga to sleep in front of, people to bug all day, cats, chickens, lots of rabbit poop to eat.
Among the most fascinating of his encounters was my cat in particular.
There are two cats at my parents house; one of whom is Cleo, a little tortoiseshell who is over 15 years old now and whom I have had in my life since I was 13; and Pippin, a big ginger bully with a cowardly nature who has been in my life for the same amount of time, also 15.
Age never taught Pippin to be bold and brave, and although he always liked to put on a brave and proud exterior to anyone around, he remained oddly easily scared of pretty much everything slightly unexpected or out of the ordinary. He once jumped willingly into a stream when he saw me carrying my old dog Bonnie across a bridge.
So although he got on well with Bonnie, who had been around since before he arrived with our family, Ozzy nearly caused him to have a complete nervous breakdown. He wouldn’t come into the house, and when he did I had to carry him in from the cold December wind and put him in the part of the house farthest away from where Ozzy was with some food and water to tide him over while he sat with his paws sweating and his fur all fluffed up, growling a low and pitiful warning. I felt really sorry for him.
But I couldn’t help but feel he was a bit of an idiot.
He should have followed in Cleo’s example.
She has always been a pretty cool cat; very gentle, calm (apart from the occasional mad moment), affectionate, and wary of strangers to which she displays a complete disregard. She’s a family cat, and very loyal to people she knows.
And what has made me respect and admire her all the more was her reaction to our crazy labrador puppy.
She was alarmed at first, and fluffed herself up and growled and hissed at him, but instead of running away she stood her ground, albeit at a height above him. And there she would insist on staying, in spite of Ozzy’s barking in frustration, and his attempts at literally trying to talk to her by groaning and saying his favourite phrase, ‘Awaw-wa!’ Which we think means, ‘I can’t understand you but oh god please play with me!’
But ‘awaw-wa’ was met with a swat on the nose. This perturbed him somewhat.
Eventually Cleo held her head high and walked across the room slowly and deliberately, right past Ozzy, who by now had developed a healthy respect and slight fear of her, and she had won the upper hand. After that she just pushed it as far as she could; by lying on his bed.
This frustrated Ozzy, causing him to say ‘Awaw-wa!’ even more. He tried to tug it away from underneath her, but she wouldn’t shift.
This represents something fundamentally classy about my cat.
Ultimately, she clearly wasn’t prepared to change the way she knew and loved to live her life. Instead, she set about adapting to it and making it work for her. It demonstrated real strength of character, which is something that I really value in anyone, human or animal.
Sure she is just a cat, but I actually think this doesn’t say any less about her character and in fact I think a lot of humans could learn from her.
