A people cat, Tai the Terrible loves the companionship and affection from his people, and he sits with me when I’m watching television. He climbs on my lap, testing the jello slowly, unsure if its Jello-like substance will hold him. He wobbles a bit on my jello, then settles down in his sphinx pose, kneading his front claws deep into my skin. But if you touch him in his sensitive places or try to brush his fur in certain areas, he becomes this quarrelsome creature with a sphinxian split personality. I let him do what he wants to do. He is heavy and hot on my lap like a heating pad in cold weather.
Most of the time, he curls up all by himself on the fuzzy on the big chair next to mine for which he has taken temporary ownership while his mom is away.
Tai is a seal-point doll-face fluffy Himalayan cat with pale blue crossed-eyes. Whenever he is wary of his sibling or an enemy of another kind he skirts around them like a sticky sloth in slow motion. He is so fluffy I can’t tell where the bones and muscles of his body stop to become just a fluff of cat hair dragging on the floor. His fluffy tail is wide and dark like a beaver tail. His legs are wide and shorter than most cats’ legs and his paws are huge like the paws of a puppy when you can tell that little pup is going to be one hell of a big dog because the size of his feet tell you so. Tai’s paws are dark seal-brown fur, shiny, soft and so smooth, I want to hold them in my hands but he will not allow me to touch his feet.
Tai and his sibling, Brillo the Black, kiss noses and sniff each other’s butt in moments of trust and calm, but their powerful sibling rivalry keeps them wary of each other. They may sleep on the same big bed, each in his own corner, and they may sit on one lap or on one chair together, but when they do so, they do it carefully, with one eye open the whole time.
When they are about to fight they move past each other in the kitchen or by the door, their movements are slinky and sloth-like. I admonish them to be good cats¾Now, be good kitties, you guys, good cats, that’s right¾and they will come out of their slothy trance, avoiding a fight. When I leave the room, they get into rolling rumbles with tufts of black and taupe fur flying hither and thither.
One evening while I was watching TV, Brillo lay curled up on the rust colored fuzzy in the second TV chair. When Tai came into the room, Brillo’s presence on his chair startled him. He jumped up on the table next to the chair and sat for a while, looking at the chair and Brillo with consternation. What? How did you…?
Slowly, one foot at a time, he lowers himself on to the flat wooden arm of the easy-chair. He sits for a few minutes, eyeing Brillo on his chair, wondering how much he’d be able to get away with. Could he? Should he tempt fate or shouldn’t he? How will Brillo react?
Tai tempts fate. With sloth-like motion, he puts one foot down on the fuzzy; he waits, he hesitates; then slowly places the other front paw down. His two front paws on the seat cushion, his rump in the air, his hind feet come down next, slow and easy, one slothy paw at a time. He stands on the seat of the chair very still, like a clay sculpture or art object, while waiting for Brillo to show some reaction.
Brillo, curled up on the fuzzy, doesn’t move a muscle except to crack one eye open a sliver. He watches Tai, but pretends he is sleeping.
Tai now sits on the fuzzy near Brillo, once again debating whether he should continue. He looks at Brillo, wiggles a bit nervous tension and hunkers down in the typical Sphinx pose with his head up. I can see he cannot stand not being able to curl up on his special chair. He lies like this for a while and then stretches his neck and lowers his head in an attempt to relax.
Brillo, cracks one eye open again, watches Tai, doesn’t move a muscle, doesn’t blink an eye. He just watches and waits.
Tai slowly flops over on his side, his back to Brillo, and because his fur is so fluffy it looks like he is crowding the one-eyed Brillo into the corner of the big chair. But Brillo, partially covered by Tai’s fluff, isn’t moving. His one eye, still open and watching. Waiting.
Stretching out even more on his side, taking up even more room on the seat of the chair, legs splayed out, head relaxed hanging over the front edge of the seat, Tai closes his eyes for some long overdue well-earned sleep. At long last, he is in his favorite chair that had been rudely usurped by Brillo, and it’s as if Brillo isn’t even there.
The little adversarial dance between the two cats took longer to execute than the actual time they laid together on the chair. I had never seen them sleeping this close to each other, but their folks tell me they will both get up on the mom’s lap at the same time and lay there peacefully while she plies their cat hair free from tangled knots.
About two weeks later, when I was sitting for them again, Brillo was on the chair when Tai came into the room. It was obvious Tai wanted his spot again. This time he took it. With no hesitation, he jumped up to the arm, then on to the fuzzy itself, stretched out quickly on his side, partially covering Brillo, and both cats slept like babies together for over two hours! I don’t know who’s more surprised, me or Tai or Brillo, at this temporary cat détente.
This last summer a coyote or pack of coyotes killed beautiful Tai the Terrible. There are packs of coyotes wandering through his neighborhood and other neighborhoods around Florence. Many cats have disappeared in the last year.
We all miss Tai.
Now I am caring for his sibling brother, Brillo the Black, who now has the favored position in the household without contention, but wanders from door to door in a morass of sadness, meowing to go out, to eat, to find Tai. Fierce hunter that Brillo is, he is not allowed outside any more. Too many coyotes. Too many bear. Too many cougars. Chased out of their forested habitats by our need for building more homes, all are hungry. Hungrily preying upon domesticated cats and dogs.
Brillo is developing a dependency on his people for safety, sustenance and cherishing. He has developed a gorgeous shiny black coat, loves to sit on my lap, have his coat brushed, his hind-end rubbed which dissolves him into a frenetic orgasm of love biting.
He will be fine.
Feb.9, 2012 Now I learn that Brillo the Black has passed on. A beauitful cat, a good hunter, loving. We all miss him.
© 2011 Copyright – Susan Canavarro. All Rights Reserved for Images & Text.
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