Turns out they are really nice cats who have shown no bad habits since they've been here for about a week. They always use the litter box, and as was promised, Stella scoops it twice a day. They scratch their scratch pads only and play with their toys. The kids are enjoying them so well, and don't ask me to be on the computer nearly as much as they had been, because they play with the cats so much. And they have been great about feeding, watering and brushing the cats, too.
Each cat has its own unique personality and good looks. Cassie is all black, very elegant, and is very, very sweet. Her personality reminds me of my cat, Leonard, in that she likes to be near us, usually finding a spot to hang out within close proximity of anyone reading or watching tv on the sofa. She's very mellow, and was completely unphased by our black lab, Molly, when they met. Also like Leonard, she doesn't climb all over you to show affection; she simply gives you a gentle head-butt from time to time. Did I mention she's elegant, gorgeous and very fluffy and soft? I really, really like her.
Roger, the grey and white kitty, is younger and more active. He is somewhat aloof and independent, except when someone provides something to chase. Then he's wants to be wherever you are with the toy. At 2 years old, he is still very playful and entertains the kids endlessly! And, I think he is starting to warm up to us more, too, and he's quite handsome himself. Neither of them seem to mind being inside all the time, which I'm glad of, since they really need to be at home here for awhile.
My only bad feelings about this decision are that I put the cart before the horse when I impulsively adopted these cats. I had a brief conversation, some months ago with the property manager of the house I rent, in which he said he could ask the owners if it was alright to have cats. I was just testing the waters, still not really keen on actually getting cats, though I was being pressured by my children. He never said yes, and I should have waited till I talked with him again, and obtained permission. I feel badly that I acted impulsively and then had to call him after the fact to ask if what I had done was ok. I put him on the spot, and I'm not proud of that. Not sure what I was thinking. When I called to tell him what I'd done, he did say it was ok and was very nice about it, but I think he felt resentful that I had handled it that way. I certainly don't blame him for that. To make it worse, this is a friend - the father of one of Stella's good friends from school. He's someone I respect and really like. I felt very relieved that he let me slide by allowing the cats, because I knew how disappointed the kids would be if we couldn't keep them, but I am ashamed of myself all the same.
Today he let me know via text that he was surprised I had two. The Monday after I got them, I called him to tell him about both, but apparently I wasn't clear, so I've got a knot in my stomach about that now, too. I've confirmed that there are, indeed, two, and that they are well-behaved, but he hasn't responded back to me to let me know if everything is still OK. I hate this awkwardness, and feel I don't have a leg to stand on in defending my actions. I wish I could have a do-over.
How can pretty, fun creatures like these represent so much agony in my heart right now?
|This is my favorite photo of Roger. Notice how my bedspread pattern looks like kitty head, and the green matches his eyes!|