I've been realizing lately just how much I had missed having a cat in my life. With Siddy-La, it was never a sacrifice, but every now and then I did go soft over the idea of a feline nuzzle, the things a cat has to offer a dog doesn't. To have one of each is in so many ways a revelation. To be the alpha, for all of us - yes, even for the kit - is a happy responsibility.
Right now, I'm on the couch, Gossy lying beside me, feet against my leg, occasional green eyes peering up at me. He's only just stopped purring, after a nice little petting session, and making the odd adorable-sleepy-kitty-boy noises, a sort of luxuriantly sighing sound of mild protest at being awake. And he keeps just looking up at me, that slow, steady, luminous gaze of cat-stillness and easy trust.
Loving up on a dog is easy stuff - they'll take a nice hard scratch on the top of the skull, a good playing-with of the ears, a belly rub (well, Pen-Pen will), whatever you've got for 'em. They'll go limp and quiet, and petting a pup is an awfully fine pastime. Dogs are the best thing in the world.
The magic of it is, if you let the right cat pick you, cats are the best thing in the world too. A kitten responds uniquely to your touch. The way they push between your fingers, the way they press their nose at *just* the angle they prefer, manipulate their way around you to get the petting they want - Gossy makes me laugh all the time, not because he's particular or selfish, but because he is seeking pleasure so patently it's just kind of a joy to watch him. There's a heedlessness in a cat when he's being well petted, they lose all sense of anything but their sensation. In a way, it's one more interesting little piece of trust.
Gossy's little jellybean paws touch you while you're petting him - as if to say, "I'ma move this way now" and he kneads and he does his own thing. The very best is when he wraps a paw around your hand or wrist. "Do not stop *that*," this says, "just perfect."
You can wrap your hand almost all the way around a cat's head, and if you pet him from nose to neck over and over that way, just running him through your palms and fingers chin to brainpan, he'll go half dizzy enjoying it.
Cats luxuriate in petting in a special way. Oh, dogs do too, but completely divorced from the reputation they have, there's actually an un-self-consciousness in a cat enjoying indulgence I think is all their own. Maybe I've just been blessed with four of the nicest cats in the world. Smike, for sure, and now Gossamer in his turn, have tickled everyone they ever met just being friendly and funny little guys. Beloved Ex found Smike, but I had him until he died (I got the cats in the divorce; we could not bear to part them), and he was family - in a family who didn't care for cats. He was my puppy-cat, gregarious as anything you've ever seen.
Gossamer still insists on his "minute" - you can't make a beeline for his attention, nor scoop him up as you walk in the door. Even I don't do that. When I come home, it is this: enter the back door, drop my bags, and stand still for a few moments to get my ankles nuzzled. Meanwhile, Pen is in her cage, wanting to get out - but she is patient, and Gossamer gets some silent time to give me my greetings, *unencumbered* by my greeting him back, except maybe verbally.
For others, of course, the introduction, even if he knows you, is somewhat more remote. He'll rub ankles other than mine, but don't try picking him up before he's come that close. My mom wants to come in the house and go right to nuzzling him in her arms - and he's such a nice guy, he'd totally love that - but the initial human tension of "I want to pet the kitten" has got to dissipate or he'll jump away like any other cat.
People joke with me, "He loves his momma" - but the fact is, his momma knows ... I'll get all the loving boy I can STOMACH, but not before he's had his time to decide to love on me. I know the way this animal works, and he has almost perfect comfort, so I am rewarded with almost perfect freedom to snuggle the devil out of him when he's relaxed. And, when he's relaxed, he will be such a love bug he'll drool all over my chest giving the love back. Heh.
I love the little scoopy guy. He's the softest cat I've ever had, I think (memory may fail me on Gert, the BOY (yes) cat I had first of all of them, back in about 1990 - I know I used to say he was "chinchilla soft" - so soft you could not feel his fur). Gossy's fur is light and rich all at once, a fine softness unique to him I like to believe. He has a sweet smell about him, too (the late, great Byshe had that, he smelled *very* sweet, like baby powder). His coat is pearly glossy. Yes ... glossy Gossamer. I try not to play with that too much, heh.
He's the littlest cat I've ever had, and means the world to me. The little lightning bolt on his rear driver's-side leg. The soft taupe color his grey takes on around his head and forepaws. The little white sneakers, the black-outlined burgundy/grey nose pad, the blob under his chin on his white neck and chest.
Don't know what it is about grey tabby males. Three of four of my cats have been one stripe (augh) or another. And I have been lucky in *all* my cat kids. So don't think the proportion of posting means Gossy gets any less disgusting affection than the puppy gets. I am disgusting enough for both of 'em.
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