Soooo, this happened . . .
I've been looking at petfinder.com pretty much daily since Saki died 4 years ago, to get my siamese fix and see what meezers were out there for adoption. This was the longest stretch I've ever lived without a meezer in my home. I didn't think Moo would be happy with a new addition, being a competitive kitty who did not like competing for attention, and she finally had more of my attention after Saki was gone. And I think it was the right decision and I'm glad I got to give Moo all the attention she wanted for her last 4 years and got to see more sides of her and that there was nothing between her and me loving her up at the end. Tuxie is fine with giving room.
Though Moo and Tuxie didn't seem close since Moo was done mothering him 13 years ago back when I thought they were inseparable, they became close again the first nervous month after the move to the house this summer and huddled together, so they could still take comfort in each other and their sense of family was definitely still there. Since Tuxie had never lived without Moo, I didn't want Tuxie to be alone long after she died. I needed a kitty who craved more attention than Tuxie, as well. I always told Tuxie I was going to get a young siamese kitty to drive him nuts when he'd be an aggressive jerk to his beloved Saki, so it was time for karma to take it's course.
After Moo died the beginning of December, I put in an application on a 2 year old tortie-point siamese who looked like Saki in form, though she had a lot more colors (oranges and blacks) and was described as "an aggressively affectionate bowling ball" in her ad, which would have been a good description of Saki, but someone got there first with their accepted application. Then I applied for 2 more tortie points: a 6 month old, and then a small kitten. I didn't plan on applying for kittens because kittens, and especially siamese kittens, usually place pretty easily, and I'm happy with a young cat up to 5 years, who don't get forever homes as easily, but I was getting desperate to get me a tortie point siamese by the third. I'd love to be able to take in senior cats as they're the most loving and cuddly and so in need, but I've been medicating cats for so long now, I really could use someone young and healthy for a stretch, if luck would grant it, time wise, and also expense wise--there's only so far my retirement will stretch, and my diabetic Tuxie is an expensive little boy to keep healthy. But each of these kitties was spoken for first.
Though getting a tortie point like Saki was my priority, I figured it would be best to get 2 cats and was thinking I would like to have a flame-point siamese as the second, as I've never lived with one of these red-headed beauties, and there had been a young flame-point who had been advertised for a long while on petfinder.com, which might not be a good sign, but she had a sweet face, and I had been considering her, so I put in an application.
My application was accepted, so I drove out to see this kitty an hour and half west of here at a Purcellville, VA veterinary office where the rescue coordinator would bring her. That was Dec 22nd, the first day (second night) of Chanuka. There I met a tiny and beautiful cat named "Persimmon." The rescue coordinator left me alone with her in the room for a bit and I held the timid kitty who kept wanting to go under things as she was clearly not happy to be held or there at all, and then darted under a bench. So I lay down on the floor and talked to her softly for a while. The coordinator came back in, saw me on the floor, and decided right then, as she told me, that I was the right person for this cat since it looks like I had the patience, to go with the cat experience I had listed. She explained she was looking for someone who would take the time to help Persimmon come out of her shell. That she liked the company of cats and was skittish with people. I had not expected to be adopting on the first visit, but she practically said, "Here, take this cat now!"
I was smitten with Persimmon's beauty, but I had always chosen cats from the shelter who clearly chose me as well, and this poor kitty was in no state to choose anyone--she was too frightened, poor baby. And I, frankly, was looking for a more well-adjusted cat, a cuddler, but I did have the skill to work with shy ones--Tuxie started out feral and not wanting to be touched, and he was now an occasional bed cuddler and my faithful sofa buddy. So with the understanding that if things didn't work out between her and Tuxie I could bring her back, this tiny girl went home with me, meowing quietly from time to time on the drive home. Elated and worried both about this new meezer in my life, I told her she was the prettiest and best Chanuka present I ever got.
As I carried her through the living room in her carrier, I showed her to Tuxie through the grate, and he duly hissed at her. I set up the new bathroom as her room for acclimating 3 days. She looked around the room a little, blinking furiously at me while cringing away if I reached toward her. A fast blink signals anxiety and fear--"please don't come closer!", but the cringing with it really seemed to say, "please don't hit me!" She may have been born skittish, but I suspect someone had done her wrong and abused her, whether the people who had and left or dumped her, or people she encountered when stray, I will never know know.
She quickly took up in a small drawer in the vanity in a loaf facing the back corner of the bathroom, alternately looking at me over her shoulder, blinking furiously at me, and hiding her frightened face against the corner. It was heartbreaking. I sat with her as much as I could that evening, my heart just bleeding for this terrified little girl. Then after a while I thought I heard a very soft meow. I looked at her and said, "Did you say something?" She answered a little more emphatically. I meowed back trying to match her tone, so she'd know I heard her, and we conversed like that for over half an hour as she complained about how scared and confused she was and how terrifying this all was. She stayed in her little drawer, but that she wanted to communicate her distress to me was good, and I went to bed with some hope this might work out.
The next day, she was fearful, but came out for a little while to eat in the morning. In the afternoon she came out a little more to explore the room. Then she started scratching on different surfaces I put down for her--the bath mat, the litter mat, the corrugated cardboard scratcher, then she'd look back at me each time to see how I reacted, which was with positive sounds and words. Then she came over and rubbed against my hand lightly. I felt I had passed a test. Then she lightly bit down on my hand and eyed me. I laughed, and said "S'OK, but please not harder." She then offered her cheek for the first time and I scritched and petted her. I passed the test! She chose me and would not be going back west. It was mutual now. She was letting me know she would try to accept me as her human, but couldn't promise she would trust me. I understood that. She was a very complicated little girl who had more than I will ever know to process. But never before had I been chosen through multiple choice test administered by cat.
So here is Purrsimmon, Kitty of the Sun, sitting in the shower stall:
I had been thinking of the alternate spelling and my brother suggested it, so it stands. Her beautiful ears are so orange at certain angles and more peachy salmon at others and her creamy soft back has a blush of orange:
So she continued to explore the bathroom and let me pet her a little through the evening. I took off my scrunchie and tossed it to her and she batted it, so I went to find what cat toys I had unpacked around the house--shoelaces being the favorite, and went out to Petsmart to get her some more toys. This girl loves to play:
But the next morning she was back to shying away from me and hiding like we had made no progress at all and I'd fret, but she'd open up a little by late afternoon and I'd hope again--this went on for a couple of days. We were no way out of the woods yet. But here she is exploring the bathroom looking very long:
That evening, since she was doing well, I decided to let her out of the bathroom for a short supervised exploration of the living room, and as soon as she spotted Tuxie watching she made a beeline for him, tail high waving, practically proclaiming, "Hihi! I'm a cat! You're a cat! We should be friends!" Tuxie let out a warning meow and hissed as she approached. Oops. She turned around and ran back into the bathroom. Oh, Tuxie.
The next night I opened the door and, as Tuxie sat in the hallway outside the bathroom watching, I gave them each a sprig of catnip. Purry chewed and rolled about on hers, periodically stopping to look at Tuxie to see if he appreciated her dance JUST for him. Nope. He didn't know what the hell she was doing, but it was interesting. It was funny, and very sad because she really wanted to trust in another cat and be friends. But it was clear that if Tuxie was going to be a friend, it was going to take a very long time and my heart hurt for her. She was trying so hard. But she had woken him out of his mourning and winter lethargy. The bathroom has a pocket door which was great for leaving cracked so they could safely observe each other. And for Purrsimmon to come to terms with the fact that Tuxie, alas, is kind of an old, curmudgeonly asshole:
You can see her little face thru the crack in the door right above Tuxie's head:
Tuxie: Get off my lawn, pipsqueak!
Purry: OK, boomer!
Every time I'd bring her a toy in the bathroom, she'd take it into her "playroom"--the shower stall, and started to pile them neatly together---so cute! Maybe I should have given her a dragon name:
So as you can see, we were making progress, but the problem was that after 3 days of acclimation, Christmas Eve, it was time to leave the door of the bathroom open and let her explore the house and let Tuxie get used to seeing her around, and hope that no bloodshed would ensue, because Tuxie is more than double her size. I was on pins and needles all that week, see sawing between hope as I was falling in love with my new kid, and fear that it wouldn't work out and learning to handle Purry's PTSD and how skittish it made her, and I haven't told you what I do know about her back story yet. So I left the door of the room open, but Purrsimmon didn't want to come out.
And I'll continue the story in the next post.
Also posted at https://lavendertook.dreamwidth.org/265629.html with
comments
Though Moo and Tuxie didn't seem close since Moo was done mothering him 13 years ago back when I thought they were inseparable, they became close again the first nervous month after the move to the house this summer and huddled together, so they could still take comfort in each other and their sense of family was definitely still there. Since Tuxie had never lived without Moo, I didn't want Tuxie to be alone long after she died. I needed a kitty who craved more attention than Tuxie, as well. I always told Tuxie I was going to get a young siamese kitty to drive him nuts when he'd be an aggressive jerk to his beloved Saki, so it was time for karma to take it's course.
After Moo died the beginning of December, I put in an application on a 2 year old tortie-point siamese who looked like Saki in form, though she had a lot more colors (oranges and blacks) and was described as "an aggressively affectionate bowling ball" in her ad, which would have been a good description of Saki, but someone got there first with their accepted application. Then I applied for 2 more tortie points: a 6 month old, and then a small kitten. I didn't plan on applying for kittens because kittens, and especially siamese kittens, usually place pretty easily, and I'm happy with a young cat up to 5 years, who don't get forever homes as easily, but I was getting desperate to get me a tortie point siamese by the third. I'd love to be able to take in senior cats as they're the most loving and cuddly and so in need, but I've been medicating cats for so long now, I really could use someone young and healthy for a stretch, if luck would grant it, time wise, and also expense wise--there's only so far my retirement will stretch, and my diabetic Tuxie is an expensive little boy to keep healthy. But each of these kitties was spoken for first.
Though getting a tortie point like Saki was my priority, I figured it would be best to get 2 cats and was thinking I would like to have a flame-point siamese as the second, as I've never lived with one of these red-headed beauties, and there had been a young flame-point who had been advertised for a long while on petfinder.com, which might not be a good sign, but she had a sweet face, and I had been considering her, so I put in an application.
My application was accepted, so I drove out to see this kitty an hour and half west of here at a Purcellville, VA veterinary office where the rescue coordinator would bring her. That was Dec 22nd, the first day (second night) of Chanuka. There I met a tiny and beautiful cat named "Persimmon." The rescue coordinator left me alone with her in the room for a bit and I held the timid kitty who kept wanting to go under things as she was clearly not happy to be held or there at all, and then darted under a bench. So I lay down on the floor and talked to her softly for a while. The coordinator came back in, saw me on the floor, and decided right then, as she told me, that I was the right person for this cat since it looks like I had the patience, to go with the cat experience I had listed. She explained she was looking for someone who would take the time to help Persimmon come out of her shell. That she liked the company of cats and was skittish with people. I had not expected to be adopting on the first visit, but she practically said, "Here, take this cat now!"
I was smitten with Persimmon's beauty, but I had always chosen cats from the shelter who clearly chose me as well, and this poor kitty was in no state to choose anyone--she was too frightened, poor baby. And I, frankly, was looking for a more well-adjusted cat, a cuddler, but I did have the skill to work with shy ones--Tuxie started out feral and not wanting to be touched, and he was now an occasional bed cuddler and my faithful sofa buddy. So with the understanding that if things didn't work out between her and Tuxie I could bring her back, this tiny girl went home with me, meowing quietly from time to time on the drive home. Elated and worried both about this new meezer in my life, I told her she was the prettiest and best Chanuka present I ever got.
As I carried her through the living room in her carrier, I showed her to Tuxie through the grate, and he duly hissed at her. I set up the new bathroom as her room for acclimating 3 days. She looked around the room a little, blinking furiously at me while cringing away if I reached toward her. A fast blink signals anxiety and fear--"please don't come closer!", but the cringing with it really seemed to say, "please don't hit me!" She may have been born skittish, but I suspect someone had done her wrong and abused her, whether the people who had and left or dumped her, or people she encountered when stray, I will never know know.
She quickly took up in a small drawer in the vanity in a loaf facing the back corner of the bathroom, alternately looking at me over her shoulder, blinking furiously at me, and hiding her frightened face against the corner. It was heartbreaking. I sat with her as much as I could that evening, my heart just bleeding for this terrified little girl. Then after a while I thought I heard a very soft meow. I looked at her and said, "Did you say something?" She answered a little more emphatically. I meowed back trying to match her tone, so she'd know I heard her, and we conversed like that for over half an hour as she complained about how scared and confused she was and how terrifying this all was. She stayed in her little drawer, but that she wanted to communicate her distress to me was good, and I went to bed with some hope this might work out.
The next day, she was fearful, but came out for a little while to eat in the morning. In the afternoon she came out a little more to explore the room. Then she started scratching on different surfaces I put down for her--the bath mat, the litter mat, the corrugated cardboard scratcher, then she'd look back at me each time to see how I reacted, which was with positive sounds and words. Then she came over and rubbed against my hand lightly. I felt I had passed a test. Then she lightly bit down on my hand and eyed me. I laughed, and said "S'OK, but please not harder." She then offered her cheek for the first time and I scritched and petted her. I passed the test! She chose me and would not be going back west. It was mutual now. She was letting me know she would try to accept me as her human, but couldn't promise she would trust me. I understood that. She was a very complicated little girl who had more than I will ever know to process. But never before had I been chosen through multiple choice test administered by cat.
So here is Purrsimmon, Kitty of the Sun, sitting in the shower stall:
I had been thinking of the alternate spelling and my brother suggested it, so it stands. Her beautiful ears are so orange at certain angles and more peachy salmon at others and her creamy soft back has a blush of orange:
So she continued to explore the bathroom and let me pet her a little through the evening. I took off my scrunchie and tossed it to her and she batted it, so I went to find what cat toys I had unpacked around the house--shoelaces being the favorite, and went out to Petsmart to get her some more toys. This girl loves to play:
But the next morning she was back to shying away from me and hiding like we had made no progress at all and I'd fret, but she'd open up a little by late afternoon and I'd hope again--this went on for a couple of days. We were no way out of the woods yet. But here she is exploring the bathroom looking very long:
That evening, since she was doing well, I decided to let her out of the bathroom for a short supervised exploration of the living room, and as soon as she spotted Tuxie watching she made a beeline for him, tail high waving, practically proclaiming, "Hihi! I'm a cat! You're a cat! We should be friends!" Tuxie let out a warning meow and hissed as she approached. Oops. She turned around and ran back into the bathroom. Oh, Tuxie.
The next night I opened the door and, as Tuxie sat in the hallway outside the bathroom watching, I gave them each a sprig of catnip. Purry chewed and rolled about on hers, periodically stopping to look at Tuxie to see if he appreciated her dance JUST for him. Nope. He didn't know what the hell she was doing, but it was interesting. It was funny, and very sad because she really wanted to trust in another cat and be friends. But it was clear that if Tuxie was going to be a friend, it was going to take a very long time and my heart hurt for her. She was trying so hard. But she had woken him out of his mourning and winter lethargy. The bathroom has a pocket door which was great for leaving cracked so they could safely observe each other. And for Purrsimmon to come to terms with the fact that Tuxie, alas, is kind of an old, curmudgeonly asshole:
You can see her little face thru the crack in the door right above Tuxie's head:
Tuxie: Get off my lawn, pipsqueak!
Purry: OK, boomer!
Every time I'd bring her a toy in the bathroom, she'd take it into her "playroom"--the shower stall, and started to pile them neatly together---so cute! Maybe I should have given her a dragon name:
So as you can see, we were making progress, but the problem was that after 3 days of acclimation, Christmas Eve, it was time to leave the door of the bathroom open and let her explore the house and let Tuxie get used to seeing her around, and hope that no bloodshed would ensue, because Tuxie is more than double her size. I was on pins and needles all that week, see sawing between hope as I was falling in love with my new kid, and fear that it wouldn't work out and learning to handle Purry's PTSD and how skittish it made her, and I haven't told you what I do know about her back story yet. So I left the door of the room open, but Purrsimmon didn't want to come out.
And I'll continue the story in the next post.
Also posted at https://lavendertook.dreamwidth.org/265629.html with
comments