Who a cat loves

At last it looks like Winter, even if it isn’t really all that cold. It’s barely freezing.

And here I am with a ton of heavy sweaters that I thought I would need, upstate NY.

Of course, my body thermostat is completely haywire. I seem doomed to be either too hot or too cold. Or, most of me will be OK, but my feet frozen. Or on fire.

The other human in the house is from Africa and likes running around in sandals. No matter the season.

Except when he goes out:

Then it’s hat and boots and heavy sweaters and even Toby has to be dressed up.

Toby was invigorated by the light snow we had two days ago. Note the angle of his tail!

He’s a mighty fine boy.

And he adores Grant. He’s not the only one. It’s nauseating.

Penny is besotted with him.

He carries her around,

up and down all day.

Sasha doesn’t realize that Penny has slotted into the gap Old Tom left in Grant’s heart….

He taught Penny to “drink it”

So now she has to have running water, which requires lifting her to the tap. She’s arthritic, you see.

Up and down, up and down….

If you want to use the sink, you just wait.

When we had Colin, sometimes there was a queue.

Now Grant is trying to teach Sikkim to drink it.


Look at this! They slobber* all over him.

Sasha is Grant’s main girl and wants you to know it.

If he calls Sikkim, Sasha will get up from the most comfortable perch, and insert herself dramatically in his lap with an expression that says “MINE!”

Sikkim doesn’t give up.

She’s besotted too.


Even my Lily, my senior cat, has abandoned me to spend most of her time with Grant.

A person could get seriously offended.

Jealous even.

Another of Grant’s worshipers, Tinkerbell.

Maybe it’s fortunate that when I was a child, my mother accused me of being jealous of my brother. I don’t think I was, particularly, but the words stung, badly, and I vowed never to feel jealousy, ever.

Jealousy is a totally useless emotion.

It’s only purpose is if someone uses it to hurt you.

It is pointless to be jealous if a person you like prefers someone else, because that’s just life.

If you really care about that person, you can be happy that they have found someone they like, even if it’s not you.

But to be jealous over who a cat loves would be ludicrous.

Lucy, the boss by default (Lily being not interested in politics), spends her day supervising me. Yes, she does know that I frequently dispense treats, but she always seems to want me in view.

Blackie has many mad moments where she gallops off like a lumbering cart horse, chasing a toy or who knows what, and she will go downstairs to demand catnip off Grant, but most nights she’s in my bed and can’t get close enough. And she stares into my eyes, looking awestruck.

Poor shy little Patches became attached to me because I saw that she was the loneliest cat in the foster room and made a point of always petting her. She spends most of her time near me.


And everyone knows about Willow.

Healer of my heart.

She spends her day looking for sunny spots or a place by the fire. Sometimes she’ll come to sit by me or just check in.

At night she tends to be nearby. Sometimes lately she sleeps on the bed (I love those nights). She lies exactly where my legs need to go and I don’t want to kick her off during the night, so I roll to the other side, or sleep cross-ways!

But there is no question who Willow regards as hers.

Cat don’t slobber. That’s dogs. Please note!

* Just been advised by catagram…

3 thoughts on “Who a cat loves

  1. I love your cat stories. Reminds me of the several cats I had years ago…. all different, all lovable. I miss them, and reading your stories makes me smile.

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