More About Wille, Part 2
When Willie first came to my home in 1993, he was about two months old. He was as long as my upper leg. When I sat on the sofa with my legs up and feet on the seat cushions, I could cradle him in the notch created by my legs. He'd be sitting with his butt on my belly and his head just even with my knees. I don't know if you can picture that.
He was our first cat who didn't mind having his belly rubbed. Our two female cats didn't let us do that. Apparently, Dude, my brother's cat, and Mimi, my mom's cat, both siblings of Willie, also didn't mind having their bellies rubbed. Must be a genetic disposition for it to run in the family. (The other male kitty -- also an orange tabby -- got loose when we tried to put him in a carrier when my folks were moving. We couldn't catch him and we don't know what happened to him. Still saddens us to this day.)
Early on, Bo, our dog, adopted Willie as a playmate, though later Wilie took an annoyance to Bo's barking. Bo wrestled with Willie and chased him around the house. Willie played back and occasionally slapped Bo's head with his paws. Sometimes Willie's claw got stuck in Bo's fur and Bo would yelp in pain but he'd be back chasing Willie again soon after.
When Sumi died in 1999 and Noel disappeared, we got Smokey from the animal shelter. Smokey and Willie took to each other like buddies, snuggling together, playing together, and fighting with each other. Sadly, Bo was dropped as best buddy.
Willie learned to drink water from the bathroom faucet from Noel who learned it from Kitty. Kitty had passed away years earlier in November 1991. If he saw either my husband or I head for or towards the bathroom, he'd be right behind and he'd jump up on the sink waiting for a drink. That was such a neat thing to see. Smokey learned to drink from the bathroom faucet from Willie and occasionally he still does that. Who said cats don't learn anything?
More in the next installment.
When Willie first came to my home in 1993, he was about two months old. He was as long as my upper leg. When I sat on the sofa with my legs up and feet on the seat cushions, I could cradle him in the notch created by my legs. He'd be sitting with his butt on my belly and his head just even with my knees. I don't know if you can picture that.
He was our first cat who didn't mind having his belly rubbed. Our two female cats didn't let us do that. Apparently, Dude, my brother's cat, and Mimi, my mom's cat, both siblings of Willie, also didn't mind having their bellies rubbed. Must be a genetic disposition for it to run in the family. (The other male kitty -- also an orange tabby -- got loose when we tried to put him in a carrier when my folks were moving. We couldn't catch him and we don't know what happened to him. Still saddens us to this day.)
Early on, Bo, our dog, adopted Willie as a playmate, though later Wilie took an annoyance to Bo's barking. Bo wrestled with Willie and chased him around the house. Willie played back and occasionally slapped Bo's head with his paws. Sometimes Willie's claw got stuck in Bo's fur and Bo would yelp in pain but he'd be back chasing Willie again soon after.
When Sumi died in 1999 and Noel disappeared, we got Smokey from the animal shelter. Smokey and Willie took to each other like buddies, snuggling together, playing together, and fighting with each other. Sadly, Bo was dropped as best buddy.
Willie learned to drink water from the bathroom faucet from Noel who learned it from Kitty. Kitty had passed away years earlier in November 1991. If he saw either my husband or I head for or towards the bathroom, he'd be right behind and he'd jump up on the sink waiting for a drink. That was such a neat thing to see. Smokey learned to drink from the bathroom faucet from Willie and occasionally he still does that. Who said cats don't learn anything?
More in the next installment.
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