Another cat column, with a lesson for us humans

Reader alert: The following column is about cats. So there. Some of you don’t like cats in the first place, which means you don’t like columns about cats, either. At least that’s what you tell me to my face. No telling what you say behind my back. In any event, if you have some crazy aversion to cats, don’t waste your time. Stop reading. Right now. Go yell at the neighbors, or chase small children out of your yard, or throw rocks at the squirrels eating all the stuff you put in the bird feeders. That’s what cat haters do — as far as I know. That’s what other folks tell me. So, last warning. Here comes the part about cats.

Over the past few months I’ve kept you up to date on the late-summer romance of Missy Kitty, the cat who lets us live in our home.

Missy Kitty is a petite animal. When we rescued her from Safe Harbor about six years ago, she was, everyone guessed, about a year old. She was stand-off-ish with other cats, most of which were considerably larger. And more aggressive. Missy Kitty, at that time, spent most of her time grooming herself. According to her veterinarian, nervous cats can’t stop with the licking and cleaning.

In addition to being super clean, Missy Kitty didn’t know what to make of petting. Every time we stroked her fur, she had to immediately lick off any trace of human contact. She was not — and still isn’t — a lap cat, although in cold weather she occasionally falls asleep in your lap, for just a little while. And she loves being petted, as long as you don’t pick her up or try to keep her in your lap.

My wife and I thought, for a long time, Missy Kitty’s predicament regarding petting and laps was something we should be concerned about. But Missy Kitty is happy, truly content. She has her territory under control, and other cats in the area know just how far they can go when Missy Kitty is around.

Then along came Mr. Blue, a large, gray tomcat with subtle gray tiger stripes. And blue eyes. It’s the eyes that grab your attention.

Mr. Blue and Missy Kitty have come to an accommodation in recent weeks. And the tomcat has displayed nothing but the finest manners. For example, Missy Kitty communicates with us by scratching on a window on the front porch or the back porch. That means she wants in. She wants food. OK, let’s get right down to it, she wants milk.

Mr. Blue, whose ribs were prominent when he first showed up, does not make a fuss when he comes around. He arrives at the front porch and sits in front of the window and looks in. Sometimes, when we aren’t home or don’t see him out the window, he goes to sleep under one of the shrubs. He is the very model of patience.

And, yes, we give Mr. Blue a bit of dry cat food when he shows up. As a result, the once wild cat now lets us pet him before he eats his rations. And he penetrates right into your heart when he looks at you. Did I mention those blue eyes?

For the longest time, Mr. Blue and Missy Kitty appeared to be the best of friends. They would greet each other with nose rubbing and sniffing. Recently, though, Missy Kitty’s territorial instincts have kicked in. She doesn’t chase Mr. Blue out of the yard, but she makes sure he keeps his distance. A few days ago, Mr. Blue decided to assert his authority by standing up, In front of Missy Kitty, fully on his four straight legs and puffing out his fur, a maneuver I thought was intended to intimidate her. Wrong move on his part. Missy Kitty looked at him for a few seconds and then took a sharp-clawed swipe at him. He deflated like a popped balloon and left the premises.

My wife and I have decided Missy Kitty doesn’t really mind having Mr. Blue around for a while each day, a long as he uses his manners and doesn’t try any funny stuff.

I don’t know enough about animals, let alone cats, to know what to make of this relationship between the two felines. I know it’s not a good thing to try to turn animal behavior into people behavior, or vice versa. Still, when we watch the two cats work out their coexistence, it does make us wonder if we can learn some things from furry pets.

Lesson learned, maybe: Getting along doesn’t always mean embracing. Sometimes the best we can do is no more than live-and-let-live. While most territorial cats would fuss and fight every time any intruder, including a gentleman like Mr. Blue, comes into the yard, Missy Kitty has decided that life is easier — and better — when you just let others be.

Bottom line: Missy Kitty is happy as long as her humans keep the milk flowing. And if Missy Kitty is happy, everyone is happy.

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.