Shasta Embarrassed Herself

Peanut, the early days

I have a cat in my face. It's easier to type without one, but Peanut absolutely, positively must sit on the mousepad. He's always loved to do that. When he was a baby it was gosh-darned adorable. But now that he is a fully-grown ten-pound cat, he's in the way. He doesn't care. He just gives me that patented, "If you really loved me, you'd let me sit on the keyboard" and rubs my face. Every movement sends a cloud of soft fur into the air. He is adorable, in an annoying way. Peanut is part kitten, part puppy, part little brother. Kittens are playful; puppies are cuddly; little brothers are (I hear) a pain in the neck. In no way at all is he part cat. Cats are cool, sophisticated and more than a little condescending.

Shasta is all cat. Any love she gives is strictly on her own terms. And you'd better be appropriately appreciative or you won't get any for weeks. She shuns better than the Amish. Humans have their uses, she'll acknowledge, for instance, we're much better than she at opening Fancy Feast. That is our primary function, cleaning litter boxes is second. As long as we remember our place, we get to live. Peanut doesn't care, he just wants his belly rubbed. In other words, just like my children, my cats have very distinct personalities. Despite (or maybe because of) this, they are super close. Peanut seems to think Shasta is Mom. Shasta thinks Peanut is her pet, although he does embarrass her, after a particularly clumsy move, she looks away as though to say, "I don't know you." It is very important to Shasta that she always be elegant & dignified.

Shasta, the way she prefers we think of her.

One thing cats really like to do is hunt. Peanut hunts Shasta ~ if she's in the mood to play, they chase each other around the house, then wrestle until Shasta has a couple of paws-ful of Peanut fur, then she's ready to quit. Peanut is rowdier and therefore, usually, the instigator. But this morning, Shasta started the fight. She was atop the china hutch (the tallest piece of furniture, natch). She saw Peanut on the floor and hopped to the bookcase, the entertainment center then, thud, skid, crash ~ she landed most clumsily behind a chair. When she reappeared, her tail was huge. I commented on its size, and Dave replied, "What do you expect, the floor just kicked her ass."