![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
You know, Babe is one of the most skittish indoor cats I know, because she was semi-feral. But she is not as skittish as she used to be, and when with "her people" (now Scott and I) is positively laid-back.
I measure this last because her method of resisting being carried upstairs, each morning and night, to have gunk put in her ears, is to look dismayed and try to shrink into the wrapping towel as if it were her own personal turtle shell. This is a 16.5-pound (yes, really!) cat with a fair bit of strength and pointy-ended claws, and she isn't using them. Well. She uses them to try and hook the towel and defeat us, but I've never been clawed, even the couple times she has gotten a paw loose, while medicating her. Literally seconds after we're done medicating, when it's over and she's back on the floor, if we sit down she will climb on our laps to be petted. And look piteous, but still.
She is a purring, cuddly, adorable little sweetheart. And she seems to be adapting fine to her new diet; without the temptation of canned food, she isn't even finishing all the dry food we put down for her in a day (though she's eating most of it).
She's very skittish of new people, large groups, or (to some degree) strange places. But she's an absolute darling. At the vet's, I asked for the blood draw to be done in the examining room. They tend to take them in back because fuzzy-wuzzy owners don't like to watch their kitties stretched and held for that. I was less concerned with my sensibilities and more concerned with the fact that I trust her calmness in my company more than out of it. And she just...lay there while I petted her head, and looked unthrilled, and didn't flinch or pull. They didn't even have to get a hard grip on her or anything (which is good: it is almost impossible to scruff a cat this overweight, which would otherwise be the sane approach if she struggled).
I have such a sweet cat. I almost said I have such a sweet little cat, but she can only claim that title if I'm comparing her size to people instead of cats.... :P
I measure this last because her method of resisting being carried upstairs, each morning and night, to have gunk put in her ears, is to look dismayed and try to shrink into the wrapping towel as if it were her own personal turtle shell. This is a 16.5-pound (yes, really!) cat with a fair bit of strength and pointy-ended claws, and she isn't using them. Well. She uses them to try and hook the towel and defeat us, but I've never been clawed, even the couple times she has gotten a paw loose, while medicating her. Literally seconds after we're done medicating, when it's over and she's back on the floor, if we sit down she will climb on our laps to be petted. And look piteous, but still.
She is a purring, cuddly, adorable little sweetheart. And she seems to be adapting fine to her new diet; without the temptation of canned food, she isn't even finishing all the dry food we put down for her in a day (though she's eating most of it).
She's very skittish of new people, large groups, or (to some degree) strange places. But she's an absolute darling. At the vet's, I asked for the blood draw to be done in the examining room. They tend to take them in back because fuzzy-wuzzy owners don't like to watch their kitties stretched and held for that. I was less concerned with my sensibilities and more concerned with the fact that I trust her calmness in my company more than out of it. And she just...lay there while I petted her head, and looked unthrilled, and didn't flinch or pull. They didn't even have to get a hard grip on her or anything (which is good: it is almost impossible to scruff a cat this overweight, which would otherwise be the sane approach if she struggled).
I have such a sweet cat. I almost said I have such a sweet little cat, but she can only claim that title if I'm comparing her size to people instead of cats.... :P
no subject
no subject
no subject