These are my two cats, Diamond (the tabby) and Sable (the Siamese). Doesn’t this look just sweet as peach pie? In fact, the two are having a very subtle argument. Diamond was in the box first, and Sable got up into it to try to wrest possession. This box is NOT big enough for two full grown cats. Sable will get in and pussssssssssh pusssssssssssssh very slowly but with complete determination.
In this case, Diamond refused to move and Sable eventually relented and jumped down to play with Dennis, my husband. Sable only appears to be a cat. In behavior, she is half monkey, half cockatoo. She is constantly getting into things, inventing games with the oddest of items, begging to be chased and played with. You can do things with her that no regular (sane) cat would tolerate: pick her up and dangle her upside down, toss her onto the bed, roll her up in a rug and roll it over and over (that’s one of her favorites, the ‘burrito’ game). She never stops purring, no matter how undignified the action is. No open cupboard goes investigated, no shelf goes untested, no place in the house hasn’t been at least occupied for a brief time by this cat. Yet, as mischievous as she is, there isn’t a mean bone in her body. I adore her for her antics, her affection, her sweet nature.
The next picture of her is in the Tunnel of Terror. It’s a cardboard tube, and this is, again, a toy in which she loves to be rolled over and over. She also uses it as an ambush for unwary human feet passing by. The fact that her tail hangs out is of no concern to her. We obviously do not see that tail as being part of a cat, and thus we are constantly being killed by the cat.
If you look closely, you can see that she is doubled over in the tube. This is another aspect of Sable: she apparently has no bones. She’s supple as a rubber band. Sable is an “apple head” seal point Siamese. The cat show people have destroyed this wonderful breed of cat, turning it from an athletic, cobby, vociferous cat into something that looks anorexic, has such a oddly shaped head that it has dental and vision problems, and doesn’t live as long as the old fashioned type. To add insult to injury, the show people, rather than admit that this type of Siamese is the progenitor type, have made it so that the “apple head Siamese” is no longer a “Siamese”. They’ve hijacked the name. Now my athletic, intelligent, mischievous and outrageously healthy cat is referred to as a “Thai”. “That’s not a Siamese” I had one woman sniff down her nose, ‘that’s an “APPLE HEAD”. Yet her cat, Chauncey, a so called Siamese, had such a horrible set of teeth that the cat needed root canals done. The cat’s two lower canines protruded from its jaw, outside its mouth, like a bulldogs.
That’s what the show people have done to the Siamese.
I don’t really give a damn what the show people think. My cat is healthy, both mentally and physically, has a wonderful personality, and if I were even allowed to enter her in a Professional Cat Show, would blow away the competition.
Diamond was our shelter kitten. We got the two kittens at about the same time, so that they could grow up together in peace. Ha. It took three weeks of fighting…as eight week old kittens…before they finally agreed on who was dominant cat. That one is Diamond. She came to us with some truly disconcerting issues, one being that it appeared that she had been injured in some way. Her hind legs were almost useless, and for the first few days, she pushed along on her belly, like a nursing kitten. She’d been raised her entire life in a small crate, for which I attribute some of it, but something else was wrong. Now she’s fine, but if you watch her walk from behind, you wonder how on Earth does a hock do that?
Diamond is a very loving cat…at times. Diamond is a very well behaved cat, if you don’t count clawing the curtains, flinging cat litter from one end of the bathroom to the other, pouncing on my husband at three AM in the morning because she wants someone to get up and feed her, and other little habits that sometimes drive me bananas. When she came to us, it was obvious she hadn’t been weaned properly because all she wanted to do was chew..on wires. She chewed through my cell phone charger, on the phone line, and most frightening of all, any power cord she could find.
I stopped that by giving her dog chew bones. She likes the narrow gauge, pork and beef twined type. She will chew them and actually eat them. But she hasn’t chewed on anything inappropriate in a very long time, not after I began giving her chewies. She also adores bones. Yes, steak bones. She will chew and lick a bone clean as a whistle.
She has never bitten or scratched us. Yet there are times when I go to pet her or do something to her that she isn’t interested in having done to her, she will look at me with an expression that says “you like that hand, the one on the end of your arm? Really? If so, keep it off of me.”
I’ve trained them both to wear a harness and kindasorta go on a leash outdoors. They ride in the car without complaint. They allow me to clip their claws (with some wriggling). We’re planning on taking them camping. It ought to be interesting.
OK, girls, back to being cats.