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What greater gift than the love of a cat?

— Charles Dickens

Stanley’s Ads

My Scottish Fold Sighing

You wonder just how much of Stanley reflects what he has picked up from being around his “owners” especially since he wasn’t raised by a cat.  In the case of Stanley, his “owner” has been solely me for the last five years; just over half his life.

I know, in myself, I see hints of mannerisms and intonations seen in my parents.  Good or bad, that is how it is.  So, with Stanley, if I see something I don’t like, I guess it is just a matter of being a better role model.  In the meantime, watching him to determine just which of his behaviors are reflections of me has been interesting.

Take for instance his behavior of sighing.  An attribute he no doubt picked up from me.  (If he could say, “whatever”, that, too, would be mine to claim — and to work on.)

Stanley my Scottish Fold in officeJust the other evening, I was working on publishing a weekly online news publication when Stanley walks into the office, sits down, stares toward me and keeps staring, then gives me a quick chin up short “mew”.  (That “mew” isn’t a full blown “meow”, it’s more of an “ahem” to get noticed.)  But, it was clear:  he obviously thought it was time to go to bed. 

Stanley has this internal clock.  He knows when it is five minutes before the alarm goes off, five minutes before it’s time for me to get home, five minutes before it’s dinner time, and five minutes before it’s time for bed.  In other words, he seems to be a step ahead of me whatever time it is.  And I think he enjoys telling me so, leading the way.

Anyway, that evening, I didn’t readily acknowledge him as sufficiently as he expected, so after a couple of minutes he offered a very audible heavy sigh, turned around and rather huffed his way out of the room toward the bedroom. 

Not fifteen minutes later, he came back in, sat down facing me and patiently waited at least a full minute, then gave the customary quick chin up short “mew” again.  I told him, “just a minute . . . wait” (which, since he knows the word, ‘wait’, he did so by settling himself down into his “sphinx” pose).  Just a brief couple of minutes later, he felt that was time enough to wait, offered me another very loud, heavy sigh, turned and huffed out again.  I quickly turned out the lights as I said, “okay, okay, I’m coming,” and scurried off behind him, which pleased him to no end.  He quickly jumped up on the nightstand, anticipating his nightly treat for his joints.  All was well in the world of Stanley. 

In the meantime, while I was amused at his sighing, I knew in my heart of hearts that he had picked that up from me.  Good or bad, there it was:  Stanley was a reflection of me.  Oh, my gosh.  Hmmm.  What other mannerisms and behaviors do I have to modify so he doesn’t pick those up?  Or is it too late?

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