Monday, November 4, 2013
Cat Tales: Bear
Bear hates me. I don't take it personally; Bear hates everybody. She's not even fond of other cats.
When I brought her in as a kitten, maybe 3 months old, she was a sweetheart. She purred and nuzzled and liked her belly rubbed.
She stayed in the guest bathroom for a while, until she had all her shots and the other cats became accustomed to her, and then I let her out.
What I think happened was that the other cats said, "Hey, you know what? She feeds us even when we're not nice." And Bear took that as a direction to never, ever be nice again.
She liked Max. He was the only cat she ever really interacted with. Now that he's gone, she's warmed up to Harriet some, and every once in a while I'm now allowed to touch the top of her head while she's eating her wet food. She growls quietly, but she doesn't stop chewing.
My great hope is that someday I'll be able to comb her, because since she doesn't groom herself (Max always did it), her fur is standing up in big chunks and mats. I just pulled a mat off her back that was literally the size and shape of a sandwich. All I really want to do is shave her bald and start fresh, but I think if I tried that, I'd need reconstructive surgery on my hands. And arms. (If she doesn't get brushed, you know her nails don't get cut either).
Maybe someday she'll even like me.
But I doubt it.