Cat owners (or should I say, cats’ humans) know that our feline friends are far better than we are at coping with summer weather, perhaps because they are accustomed to lying around, snoozing. Our "tortie," Clara, is a case in point. When heat and humidity combine to make life truly miserable, Clara curls up on the cool surface of my roll top desk and stays put, sometimes for hours on end. Dogs and humans, by contrast, don't have enough sense to simply park themselves somewhere when that's obviously the right thing to do.
At eight, Clara is not the oldest of our four cats (that would be 11-year-old Walt), but she’s been with us for six years, which is longer than any of the others. Having seen her in action since 2005, we know full well that Clara has her quirks. The keenest hunter in our pride, she will pass up breakfast for a chance to hang out in the mudroom, hoping to catch a mouse. (Although, alas for her, we have none.)
She’s also the flintiest of the bunch, for lack of a better word. Clara will tolerate being held, but only briefly. She loves lap sitting, but only on my lap, and only in my study.
Like dogs, cats play favorites, perhaps even more so than the canine set. Clara clearly is my cat, just as Annie “belongs” to my wife Liz. The aloof Walt is his own boy, while Teddy, the gregarious coon cat who thinks he’s a dog, sees himself as everyone’s kitty.
Yet when the mercury soars, all four of them lounge quietly and conserve energy . . . until feeding time beckons.
Like dogs, cats play favorites, perhaps even more so than the canine set. Clara clearly is my cat, just as Annie “belongs” to my wife Liz. The aloof Walt is his own boy, while Teddy, the gregarious coon cat who thinks he’s a dog, sees himself as everyone’s kitty.
Yet when the mercury soars, all four of them lounge quietly and conserve energy . . . until feeding time beckons.
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