Pattern

Changing the sheets may be boring but it’s not something that should lead to weeping.

It didn’t, quite, but as I stripped my bed I was keenly aware of the empty corner beside it where latterly Sophia had taken to curling up.

The house is full of such reminders.

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For a long time, Muffin’s breakfast time routine was to climb in Grant’s lap and gaze up at him, seeming to follow his conversation. She had a habit of turning her head which was adorable.

In her final year, Muffin’s behaviour changed which, in my experience anyway, is quite common with aging cats.

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Cisco was the biggest cat I ever cared for. He grew from a tiny white kitten into an enormous red-head with piercing blue eyes. He was also my most timid cat. He was terrified of strangers. In fact, he was afraid of everyone but me. Friends who visited regularly came to believe he was a figment of my imagination since they never so much as caught sight of him fleeing.

It was never quite clear to me what took Cisco’s life, or maybe I’ve forgotten. My cats had annual health checks and a year before he died, his considerable weight had dropped and it continued to. Nothing else appeared to be amiss, but suddenly my shy cat became outgoing. When friends came by, Cisco trotted out to meet them. There could not have been a more radical personality change.

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Something similar happened with Tinkerbelle. She seriously disliked me. Possibly she had been mistreated by a woman early in life, or she might simply have been born with a prejudice against women. There are such animals – not only human beings are prejudiced. Or maybe it was just that she was very attached to Grant and regarded me as a competitor. Whatever the case, my attempts at friendship were rebuffed with hissing, spitting and swiping.

Respecting Tinkerbelle’s feelings, I seldom made overtures, but the year before she died, I sensed a shift. Her eyes had softened. She came to sit on the counter beside my desk and she allowed me to pet her.

Delighted though I was, changing behaviour is a sign and short months later she was gone.

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Once she’d settled in after our move from the West Coast, shy Patches detached from her half-sister Sophia and developed her own little routines which including sleeping at night on Grant’s bed when she could squeeze in with Tom, Colin, Dee Dee, Tinks and Lily.

The year before she died, suddenly she came to me nightly to be petted and to sleep with me.

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Toby had never gravitated to either Grant or I in particular, but in his final year he attached to me closely. He came to help with my blog, snuggled close and always slept by me.

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Lucy certainly believed that I was her person and preferred not to share me, yet it was only near the end of her life that she clung to me, sitting with me on the sofa, which she had never done and needing to be close beside me at night.

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Muffin who had always been in Grant’s lap began coming to me at breakfast time as I played with word puzzles. Any time I struggled, she would jump up and within moments I had the answer. It happened over and over again. She also began clinging to me, needing to sit in my lap at the computer.

It’s as if it’s become a pattern.

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Lily’s behaviour has changed a number of times. When we moved she developed the habit of getting behind me on my chair and poking me for attention. I saw her often competing for space with Lucy and then suddenly she changed her allegiance and went downstairs to hang out with Grant.

After Lucy died, Lily came back to me briefly, as if to touch base. I wondered if she and Lucy had made an agreement and that she was reclaiming her place, but after checking in she seemed satisfied and resumed her private routine.

Lily has always been happy to wander about the house and the garden when she could persuade someone to open the door. She loved nothing better than to tear from one end of the field to the other, stopping only to sniff at the catnip plant. She is far less mobile now.

Being a keen mouser, Lily likes to patrol the basement and she often made loud “commentaries”.

Over the past couple of months the announcements have increased in volume, possibly related to deafness? Recently they have become less comment and more a demand. As well as being a big talker, Lily has always been a big drinker. She will take a lick out of just about anything, but her preference by far is for running water which is very common for cats.

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It has only been in the past few weeks that Lily’s “YEEAAOOW! AOW! AOW!” has come to signify:

“Come here and turn the tap on!”

We’re a bit simple. First we had to work out that she wished to exit from downstairs. Because Little Man is apt to be a pest, the door was closed at night to give the upstairs girls a bit of peace and quiet.

The door now stays open and the demand for drink-it, if I’m lucky, occurs only once during the night. Seemingly, 2 am is the preferred time.

The reason for the door having to be open is not only related to drink-it, however. Maybe it’s because the upstairs is warmer. For a week or so, Lily has been wanting to snuggle close and sleep beside me, although last night I believe she was in a box by the fire.

In multi-cat household, losses always cause a shift, so maybe Lily’s behaviour change is due to Sophia’s passing?

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