How Patches came to live with us

Patches is quite a philosopher's cat. While the others roam the garden like true stealth warriors and ninjas, she has her own spot next to the pond, from where she'll be seen staring down the water lily leaves and ripples made by various insects. Sometimes she will raise her head and look up, her eyes wide and big, and then she will close them again, not entirely, but just enough to communicate all is right with her world.

This month is her (and brother Tiger's) 7th homing anniversary, for in 2008, when we first came to live here, those two strays were wandering the neighbourhood in search of food and warmth. Because all those years ago temperatures plummeted to minus 14 C, we could not let them starve, so we provided a selfmade shelter and gave them dryfood. Inside, our three cats were watching with great interest. 

Patches was quick to trust, but Tiger kept his distance for a long time. When we suddenly noticed Patches's tummy grow bigger, we were anxious she was pregnant - we managed to grab her, which was not that difficilt, since she trusted us already, and took her to the vet. Examination made clear she had bloated intestines, and she was spayed right there and then. She had to be kept inside for over a week, to allow the wound to heal. We emptied a small room next to our bedroom, gave her blankies, a litter box and a scratching post, but being a feisty semi-feral kitten (est. 4 months), she tore the place apart. Sort of. Our three other cats were not too happy about that, but in the end, all ended well. She stayed inside for the rest of that winter - while we figured out how to capture Tiger, who needed that spaying treatment as well. Even if we could not keep him indoors, we felt it was necessary to do so, to avoid future kitty-bombshells.

But catching Tiger was quite a different story ...

Cats and the cold outdoors

This morning, our garden shed roof was glistening white. The first frostbite of the year! This means of course chilly temperatures, which however should not yet affect the cats that much. 

Spook, brave Norwegian Forest Cat

Still, Miss Sayath, a Norwegian Forest refused to even sniff the air and stayed indoors, sleeping under the bed. And Miss Troel, also thickfurred Norwegian Forest, decided that walking in and out counted as much as staying outside - so after a final sunbask she turned her back on the garden. Same for Patches, Bowie and Tiger. They really seemed to detest this early wintery cold. 

The only brave one was Spook. While all the others were already snuggled up inside, he was still strutting in the garden, his big Norwegian Forester paws managing the cold wet grass. When realising he was all alone, he eventually came back in. But only because he was feeling very alone. Just so you know. 

Tiger is wondering..whether the storm is worth losing his appetite or even his sleep over

Ever since his awol Tiger has returned nice and easy back to our house. In fact, he comes in, he eats a bit, waits for a cuddle or two, and takes off again. He never seems too impressed with what's going on; he just falls over on his side, with some groan-like meow and waits for me to just notice him. He then gives me The Look - in his case, that means: "I am waiting, come pet me, I need some lovin'." With Sayath it would refer to: "Stay the hell away from me before I scratch your eyes out." Meh... - and starts kneading with his paws when he sees me approaching him.

Tiger is wondering whether the storm is worth losing his appetite or even his sleep over. 

Today there was a lot to do about a storm brewing in the South of the country. Some heavy thunderstorm, with rain, winds and the whole shabam was forecast, so I did my best to have all cats inside before all hell would break loose. Tiger, luckily, was surprisingly early. He came in at about 3pm, but I did not dare to take any risks, and kept him indoors. The others were pretty quick to follow, but it took another 5 hours to get his sister Patches in. She is always so stubborn. And she has a crazy love affair with a blackbird juvenile.

When finally the storm was about to explode, all cats seemed quite sensitive to the change in the air. Spook was not. He never is, Thunderstorms never impress him. But I was surprised to see Tiger rather nonchalantly waiting to get some noms. After dinner, he just went upstairs. To sleep. And while the thunder roared, and Patches, Troeleke and Bowie hid under the bed, he just slept.

Or he faked it.
Difficult to tell when looking at a cat,
Especially Tiger, who masters the art of fake sleeping like no other.

When a cat is missing...

Tiger - photo by Thirza Meta

...it is obvious that the existing hierarchy is turned upside-down. With 6 cats living together, that's even more so. When Tiger did not come home two Fridays ago, the change was most noticeable in his sister Patches. 

She showed a tremendous need for cuddles and affection, after she went looking in every room, only to return with a pitiful confused look on her face. She clearly did not understand why Tiger wasn't there - her brother had never before been out for so long, and they have been together since they were kittens. 

As the days went by and Tiger still did not return, Spook and Bowie began to claim higher statuses: they kind of force themselves closer to me, especially in the evening, when our son is asleep and all is peaceful and quiet again. And now Troeleke also believes she has to make more of a statement. They get bolder, more "there", even louder. 
Seems that only Sayath remains exactly how she was before: a bit dangling at the bottom, but with that spunk that only she displays from time to time, begging for bellyrubs. 

Patches - photo by Thirza Meta

Patches however is restless. She never seems really at ease. She stares out of the window and cries every day to go outside. Sometimes I think that she believes she is the one who can lure him back to our house. 
It is pretty remarkable to see what route she takes when out in the garden: starting off on the left side, then around the shed and continuing on till she pops up beneath the skimmia bush at the right side. She is very reluctant to come back in - it takes some effort to convince her. Even the rain and wind don't seem to bother her. 
So, to me, she is the only one of our cats really physically missing Tiger. But she is also the one who really grieved over our late Stimpy, and who stayed cloes to him during his last two weeks on this earth. 

And yes, we do all we can to get Tiger back, but up to this day, the 10th day, he remains missing. 

The Fly Pattern

With six cats, there is always something to tell, always something to see and to experience. Fun thing of today is: one of the cats is a very skilled fly catcher. Only, he doesn't eat them.  

Bowie by ThirzaMeta, 2015

At our place, it's necessary on a daily basis to sweep the downstairs rooms. Three litterboxes, and six furballs, of which three longhaired ones, and a 5-year old make it kind of mandatory. However... 

Ever since the cats were allowed back to venture in the garden, our youngest cat Bowie started to leave chewed-on flies everywhere in the house. So I sweep and I am happy, for hey, what do you know, my place is clean again. And then I turn around and, what is that? A dead fly! A dead fly that was not there before! Seems that Bowie ever so slightly moved behind me and spat out that fly. Obviously for me to find. Sometimes he hides them, to play with later. Sometimes I find three, four flies in a row, like some kind of route on a treasure map. And everytime I give him a good talk-down to, he looks at me with those big eyes, as if to say, I did this for you.

On the other hand, to get rid of the flies that way is far easier than chasing them around the house and hoping they are smart enough to find the open window (I can't kill flies. Or other insects. I catch them using a glass and a piece of paper, and I put them outside). 
And since we have an awful lot of flies already at the start of Summer (due to hot temps, caused by the heatwave going on?) I expect a lot more trails and patterns scattered around the house. 

The emphatic power of cats

I noticed it before, and I read about it plenty of times: the way cats seem to sense a negative (emotional) state of mind, and then come to you to take all that bad energy away. It's unbelievable, it's very special. Suddenly, there is this other kind of engagement. And then you got the feeling that you are no longer alone with your worries and your sorrow.

I can imagine that a lot of people dismiss the idea of a 'caring' cat; cats are not often seen as social, let alone emphatic. Quite the opposite! In its independence, a cat is believed to be arrogant and headstrong, and certainly not attached to or caring for the human it's adopted.

While I am browsing the Internet in search of information that relates to this emphatic quality of cats, Google advices me links that emphasize behaviour problems, aggressiveness in cats, what to do when your cat destroys your furniture… It took me some time to finally find one positive word: on the website of a Belgian lady who calls herself the Catnanny, and who firmly believes, out of years of experience, that cats have this special mission to protect us and take away our negative energy.

Now that sounds more like it. 

The protection has to do with the fact that cats come to lay on the bed with you at night - while you are sleeping they watch over you. When some intruder is to enter the house, they tend to get even closer to you, just to try and keep you safe.
When I am home alone with my littly guy who is sleeping in the room next to me, four out of our six cats jump on the bed, or in the near vicinity of the bed. And always there are a couple that venture into our son's room, just to take a peek, and sometimes to jump on his bed and sleep there.

With me, they snuggle up real tight. So tight I cannot move. And their purring vibrates through my whole being - a soothing sound.

One of our cats, the Norwegian Forester Troeleke

Do I suffer that much from negative energy? Perhaps.
For almost 15 years Fibromylagia has been part of my life, which comes down to pain every single day. Sometimes bearable, more often not at all. Are the cats trying to take away the negativity that comes with a chronic pain syndrome? It's a beautiful thought, right? How the sadness, the sorrow, the anger, the depression-like state of mind and the low self-esteem - emotions that can pop up suddenly, like thieves in the night, and rob you from common sense about yourself and the way you handle things, emotions that in fact are there all the time, subpressed, waiting, because you want to be strong so bad - are purred away and cuddled away by your cats who are supposed to be these arrogant, antisocial creatures with no emphatic quality whatsoever.

Last night, I had an emotional breakdown, and within ten minutes' time, there came four cats - snuggling up next to me. Three of those cats were downstairs before the breakdown happened. To me, that is proof enough. 

And yes, it comforted me. Tiger's sonore purring slowly eased the sadness. And eventually, we all fell asleep, a slee

p through wich these wonderful cats could cleanse themselves from all that negative energy they took away from me.