He and Harriet came in when they were about 3 months old; their mom, Alice, took a good while longer. When she came in, I'm not sure they recognized her anymore. They still don't hang out together much.
Nicky's kind of a lone panther. He bonds to one cat (or person) at a time. He loved my cat Isabel, and when she died, he mourned and stress-licked all the fur off both his legs. It took a year before he had hair again. He still licks when he gets upset, but not to that extent.
Now that Max is gone, Nicky has bonded with Mario. He even sleeps the way Max did, butt on the living room radiator, head and paws on the arm of the couch and belly slung out over space. He never did that before, but I think he's filling a need, for both himself and his new person.
|Nicky, Harriet and sister when they |
still lived outside
Nick's a little skittish. Like most of my born-outdoors cats, he has rules and sometimes they're hard to get around. He's still head-shy after all these years, but if you come at him from underneath he'll let you cheek-scritch him all day. A true sign of affection is when he comes up to you on the couch and butt-slams you. If you start scratching then, his head sinks lower and lower until it's flat on the cushion and he's standing up on his back tiptoes. Eventually if he gets enough scratches, he falls over and scares himself and goes invisible for about 3 hours.
He's much bigger now than he is in the top photo, but he's camera shy and I haven't gotten a decent picture of him in a while. Being a black cat doesn't help, either - there are more difficult things to photograph, but not many.
I can't believe I'm at the end of my cat posts. This means I'm going to actually have to do some me-sewing soon, so I have something left to talk about.