People seem to either be more dog people or more cat people. Never having had a cat growing up, I've always been a dog person. I like cats, but I just prefer dogs.
Grendel is the perfect mix of cat and dog. He's everywhere we are most of the time, greets us at the back door, and doesn't hesitate to come mingle with company when someone comes over.
Alfred was aloof and friendly when he felt like it. Considering Maine Coons are supposed to be very friendly, I think he thought he was some other breed. He was usually a loner. And not to mention a pooper on the kitchen floor. Finding a new home for him was not particularly heart breaking.
Bronte was just a cat. Beautiful, but rather skittish. She was friendly on her terms, but when she was friendly she was very friendly. She was what I'd call a typical cat. But she was well mannered, and vocal, and gorgeous. And I wasn't expecting her to die. And I never thought I'd miss her.
I find myself missing her a lot. When I walk into the guest bedroom for something I automatically look for her on the bed. When Pooh is downstairs with Abbie, I expect her to come stand next to my chair in the office and give me a few of her mew mew squeaks, and wait to jump on my lap and walk around on my keyboard for awhile. Opening the pantry had become a surefire way to get her to come running from where ever she was. And I'll never know how one little 9 pound cat (she was down to 6 when she died) could sound like a herd of elephants running up and down the stairs by herself.
The house is different without her. Grendel is much more needy and looks at me with a quizzical expression on his face quite often. He had just gotten over sleeping in Leko's bed in the kitchen (he and Leko were great friends), and now he's sleeping in Bronte's spot in the living room. Abbie has taken to pouncing on Grendel more, but then is disappointed because he just doesn't care.
As much as I hate to think it, I know when we come back from Boston in early August, we will probably get another cat. Grendel is 10 now and has never been without a cat companion for more than a few weeks. And when he didn't have a cat companion, he had Leko... and their relationship was a lot different than the one he has with Abbie. Bronte was like a mom to him (and to Fred), and I think Grendel is very lonely.
As a matter of fact, I don't know how he'll survive in the house by himself for a week when we go up North. He's never stayed alone before. Maybe instead of having a cat sitter come in a few times a day, we'll have to have someone come stay. He'll be broken hearted with no one home with him all day.
Grendel is the perfect mix of cat and dog. He's everywhere we are most of the time, greets us at the back door, and doesn't hesitate to come mingle with company when someone comes over.
Alfred was aloof and friendly when he felt like it. Considering Maine Coons are supposed to be very friendly, I think he thought he was some other breed. He was usually a loner. And not to mention a pooper on the kitchen floor. Finding a new home for him was not particularly heart breaking.
Bronte was just a cat. Beautiful, but rather skittish. She was friendly on her terms, but when she was friendly she was very friendly. She was what I'd call a typical cat. But she was well mannered, and vocal, and gorgeous. And I wasn't expecting her to die. And I never thought I'd miss her.
I find myself missing her a lot. When I walk into the guest bedroom for something I automatically look for her on the bed. When Pooh is downstairs with Abbie, I expect her to come stand next to my chair in the office and give me a few of her mew mew squeaks, and wait to jump on my lap and walk around on my keyboard for awhile. Opening the pantry had become a surefire way to get her to come running from where ever she was. And I'll never know how one little 9 pound cat (she was down to 6 when she died) could sound like a herd of elephants running up and down the stairs by herself.
The house is different without her. Grendel is much more needy and looks at me with a quizzical expression on his face quite often. He had just gotten over sleeping in Leko's bed in the kitchen (he and Leko were great friends), and now he's sleeping in Bronte's spot in the living room. Abbie has taken to pouncing on Grendel more, but then is disappointed because he just doesn't care.
As much as I hate to think it, I know when we come back from Boston in early August, we will probably get another cat. Grendel is 10 now and has never been without a cat companion for more than a few weeks. And when he didn't have a cat companion, he had Leko... and their relationship was a lot different than the one he has with Abbie. Bronte was like a mom to him (and to Fred), and I think Grendel is very lonely.
As a matter of fact, I don't know how he'll survive in the house by himself for a week when we go up North. He's never stayed alone before. Maybe instead of having a cat sitter come in a few times a day, we'll have to have someone come stay. He'll be broken hearted with no one home with him all day.