The Reluctant Lover

Chloe has never been the kind of cat that comes to you, curls up in your lap, and purrs herself to sleep. She was a lot friendlier when we lived in New Hampshire, where she was an outdoor cat during the day. That is until she got attacked by what we assumed (based on the puncture wound and neighborhood sightings) was a gray fox. And then by what we assumed (based on the puncture wound and my son’s sighting) was a hawk. And then by (we assumed) a gray fox, again. (Puncture wounds, which don’t necessarily bleed a lot, are hard to find on a fluffy cat and by the time we’d I’d found this third one, it had abscessed, and was not identifiable.)

So, over the course of about 4 months, she had three encounters with wildlife, each of which were followed by a rabies shot and the last one required surgery and an overnight stay at the vets, followed by 6 weeks of recuperation as an indoor cat. I think she had to wear a cone, too. Poor thing. As soon as the recuperation period was over…we moved 1400 miles away from our country, wildlife-surrounded home to a small city in Lower Alabama. Results: she is an indoor cat and I think she resents us because she is even less cuddly than she was before.

At least when we lived in NH, she would sleep on my bed with me just about every night. Now, she only does it occasionally in the “winter”. (I use that term loosely because we really didn’t even have a winter, last year!) So, when we want to love on her (and she’s so darn cute, we can’t help ourselves) we basically have to force ourselves on her. Usually, she ends up purring and enjoying the attention in spite of herself. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not a mean, nasty cat to us (most of the time), she’s just a priss. When I pick her up and love on her, I am often asked if I am “torturing the cat, again”. It’s not really torture, although you might think so, sometimes, the way she struggles, initially. She reminds me a little bit of the poor female cat in the Looney Tunes cartoons when she struggles to get away.

We are hoping that, when we move to a more country locale and can hopefully let her go outdoors again (depending on the amount and type of wildlife), that she will become a little bit more loving. Maybe as she gets older, she’ll also be less of a little prissy diva and enjoy the attention we feel compelled to give her.

Poor kitty….