When a cat chooses to be friendly, it’s a big deal because a cat is picky.
~Mike Deupree
Our rescue cat, Mouse, had been Queen of the Hill for some time when another feline entered her realm in the form of a little, orange kitty. It was a ray of sunshine for our family, but for Mouse, it was a home invasion.
We had found the stray one rainy afternoon by our back porch. It had no tags and was in dire need of nourishment. Mouse did not share our tender feelings for the interloper, even though we had rescued her as well, adopting her from a shelter. She hissed and swatted at the tiny thing.
The kids didn’t want to take the kitty — named Peaches for its bright, orange fur — to a shelter. Mouse would just have to adjust and learn a little humility. She’d have to share some of the attention that was heretofore exclusively hers.
The situation remained in standoff mode for several days. Peaches quickly learned to be wary of the older, bigger cat. We all hoped that Mouse would come around eventually.
Mouse had long since become strictly an indoor cat, showing little interest in the outside world other than to watch the birds and squirrels go through their antics around the bird feeder and a display of peanuts. When she wasn’t watching life pass by from the comfort of a windowsill, she was usually stretched out across the middle of a bed, drifting from one lazy dream to another.
I wondered if she had reached the point where she would observe a rodent or a beastly bug scuttling in front of her with no more enthusiasm than a yawn. But because of Peaches, we tried to make sure unattended doors were closed, worried that Mouse’s intimidating tactics might cause Peaches to run outside. With kids coming in and out constantly, that would prove to be a daunting task.
Sure enough, on a November day when the weather was turning cold, Peaches was nowhere to be found. After an hour of searching, my wife heard a frightened “meow” from the back yard. Camouflaged among the oranges and browns of a tree’s remaining leaves was the little pussycat, perched precariously on a high limb.
I was called upon to retrieve a ladder and attempt to coax Peaches down. Anyone who’s ever had a cat up a tree knows that an accident is only one wrong move away. Peaches only climbed higher as I wondered how much a call to the fire department might be. Our son wanted to climb the tree, but I didn’t want a broken arm or leg to complicate the situation.
Then, something amazing happened. Mouse, our lazy indoor cat, ventured from the house. She jumped on the tree trunk and started to climb, her seldom-used claws finding purchase in the hard bark. To my knowledge, Mouse had never climbed anything more daunting than stair steps. As the rest of us stood by, mouths agape, Mouse climbed to the limb Peaches was glued to.
“Don’t you dare hurt that kitty, Mouse,” my wife pleaded in a bit of a panic.
But that wasn’t Mouse’s intent. She was on a mission of mercy. She meowed at the younger cat and started back toward the tree trunk. It’s hard to say what transpired between the two felines that day, but Peaches carefully followed Mouse down the tree. My wife and I each grabbed a cat and nuzzled it before returning to the security of the indoors.
Something definitely changed that day because Mouse approached Peaches later and licked her ears. The holidays were approaching, and we all had something unexpected to be thankful for — harmony within the household. An uneasy truce had been replaced with acceptance, by a feline who ended up showing compassion and courage when we least expected it.
~Troy Seate
