What is she thinking? We'd all like to know.
[Scene: the kitchen of a quiet farmhouse in the middle of nowhere at dawn, where two cats and two dogs are sleeping peacefully and a third cat is about to jump onto the windowsill.]
Woof. Ruff. Ruff!
WOOF. WOOF. WOOF.
Welcome to my mornings, courtesy of Kit Kat Kate.
Six years ago I drove to our local overcrowded and underfunded animal shelter and adopted the three cats who had been there the longest: Topaz, Mr. Midnight, and an innocent looking little black and white cutie pie named Sarah Kate, now also known as Kit Kat.
Over the years Sarah Kate has gone from indoor cat to full-time outdoor cat and back to full-time indoor cat. She is very good at amusing herself (it's amazing how much noise she can make while all alone in a room), and other than a close friendship with Mr. Midnight, she's never paid much attention to the rest of our feline family.
Until Jasper moved in last spring.
Jasper is a giant fluffy creamsicle who lives outside. First thing each morning, he comes around to the kitchen pick-up window and waits for someone to slide it open and give him a little snack. And Sarah Kate goes berserk. She hisses and growls and attacks him through the glass, which in turn sets off the dogs.
All the while, Jasper just sits there, alternating between doing that lovey dovey, blinky-eyed thing and looking slightly terrified.
This has been going on for months.
If Jasper is late showing up, Kit Kat races back and forth from the kitchen window to the glass-front storm door in the mudroom, frantically trying to find him. Once when she was waiting for him at the pick-up window, he sidled up alongside the house out of her view, and when he suddenly appeared in the glass she was so spooked she fell onto the floor.
Does she love Jasper? Does she hate him? Who knows.
Things do seem to be progressing. The other day Joe told me Kit Kat and Jasper had just spent 30 minutes staring quietly at each other through the glass.
Since it's been so cold lately, Jasper has been spending a lot of time in the garage/workshop attached to the house, and Kit Kat has been spending a lot of time camped out in front of the shop door. When Joe opens it, she dashes in, runs over to Jasper, who is snuggled up in his cat bed minding his own business, bats her paw at him, hisses, and runs back into the house.
None of us can figure out what is going through her head. The more cats I get to know, the more I realize that they all have distinct personalities. After living with Kit Kat for six years, I'd have to say that she's a little bit nuts.
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Do your cats have distinct personalities? Tell us about them in the comments!
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