A couple of family situations have led to prolonged mingling of my two cats with my mom's three (well, one of Mom's is a former feral and doesn't mingle -- she has her own room). There was some consternation when my cats and I first moved temporarily into my folks' house a few weeks ago, particularly on the part of Dylan, the feline head of their household, but things calmed down very quickly, especially after we got a Comfort Zone diffuser.
Now Dylan is more relaxed, and my Clydie doesn't seem to feel a need to prove his mettle against Dylan anymore... and Mom's Sassy and my Pearl are friendly, too. It's lovely to see them all getting to know each other!
But here's the thing: my father is 84 years old, and he's been seriously ill and seriously grumpy for several years now. He never wanted cats in the house to begin with, and although he sometimes finds them amusing, he complains bitterly about "these damn cats, the bane of my existence."
That is, until the past week or so. To our astonishment, my grumbly ol' papa has fallen just silly in love with my little Pearl! He can't take his eyes off her... he barks at any other cat who even thinks about raising a paw to her... and ever since Mom and I explained to him about the blinking thing, he's been giving Pearl these slow-blinking, come-hither looks every time he sees her! It's hilarious -- and beautiful.
My father stays in his recliner virtually all the time, and his overtures have gradually lured Pearl as far as the endtable beside him. She sits up there and watches raptly as he reads to her about the siege at Appomattox or the building of the Panama Canal!
Although my father has always flinched from cat hair as if it were radioactive, he actually PETTED Pearl yesterday! And when she turned her fluffy little cheek into his hand and made her sweet little chirpy purring sound, my father just absolutely melted. What a wonderful moment!
My father has been hospitalized twice in the past three weeks and is undoubtedly having some fairly severe post-op pain at the moment -- but he is so cheerful and positive, like his old sunny self from twenty years ago! He laughs easily again, sings and hums, participates in conversations he used to ignore... it's amazing! That furry little grey girl has done more for him than all the antidepressants and painkillers and rehab programs put together.
So I just wanted to share that with you... the simple grace of an innocent little creature's love, and the miracles it can work for us mere mortals. May you find all the miracles you need, too, and may your lives be filled with joy and fur in the new year...
Now Dylan is more relaxed, and my Clydie doesn't seem to feel a need to prove his mettle against Dylan anymore... and Mom's Sassy and my Pearl are friendly, too. It's lovely to see them all getting to know each other!
But here's the thing: my father is 84 years old, and he's been seriously ill and seriously grumpy for several years now. He never wanted cats in the house to begin with, and although he sometimes finds them amusing, he complains bitterly about "these damn cats, the bane of my existence."
That is, until the past week or so. To our astonishment, my grumbly ol' papa has fallen just silly in love with my little Pearl! He can't take his eyes off her... he barks at any other cat who even thinks about raising a paw to her... and ever since Mom and I explained to him about the blinking thing, he's been giving Pearl these slow-blinking, come-hither looks every time he sees her! It's hilarious -- and beautiful.
My father stays in his recliner virtually all the time, and his overtures have gradually lured Pearl as far as the endtable beside him. She sits up there and watches raptly as he reads to her about the siege at Appomattox or the building of the Panama Canal!
Although my father has always flinched from cat hair as if it were radioactive, he actually PETTED Pearl yesterday! And when she turned her fluffy little cheek into his hand and made her sweet little chirpy purring sound, my father just absolutely melted. What a wonderful moment!
My father has been hospitalized twice in the past three weeks and is undoubtedly having some fairly severe post-op pain at the moment -- but he is so cheerful and positive, like his old sunny self from twenty years ago! He laughs easily again, sings and hums, participates in conversations he used to ignore... it's amazing! That furry little grey girl has done more for him than all the antidepressants and painkillers and rehab programs put together.
So I just wanted to share that with you... the simple grace of an innocent little creature's love, and the miracles it can work for us mere mortals. May you find all the miracles you need, too, and may your lives be filled with joy and fur in the new year...
