Feisty feline update
Drusilla Barbarella has grown a lot since we took her in, not only in size but in confidence. She has always been a friendly creature but was for a long time inclined to play either on her own or with humans while hissing at and avoiding the other cats in the house.
Now our little black cat can be found playing with – or annoying, we’re not quite sure – Mandrake mostly, our marmalade tom who puts up with her smacking him about the head only for so long before he grabs the newcomer in his teeth, around her belly, and throws her into the air, making her squeal like a rat.
No harm is ever done, though their antics are unappreciated in the early hours of the morning, like today. Drusilla’s relationship with B’Elanna, the only other female, is no less violent but when there’s no mistaking B’Elanna’s responses when she’s had enough. Yet Drusilla’s inclination to attack these two is rarely, we believe, borne from malice but rather something closer to affection. She rarely attacks Belsham, the elder statesman of the house, who instead gets to sniff her nose and, if he’s very lucky, something else he’s constantly interested in. I shall say no more on that. Tom, our rotund tabby male, does seem to get some spiteful behaviour but then, he asks for it in a way as he’s a grumpy cat, not unhappy, and so po-faced at times that even we want to tease him a little.
Drusilla has still not been outside, with the exception of two sneaky escapes a few months ago. I thought yesterday I’d take her into the back garden for twenty minutes or so. She was terrified throughout. I could feel her heart beating in her chest, reminding me of injured birds when you pick them up. She clung to me, making me wonder if she thought I was going to abandon her. Instead, I abandoned the exercise, she ran inside and we spent the next hour or so with me sat down in the living room with a little black cat stuck to me like glue.
There are no plans to let her loose on her own, although when the time comes we shall have to take care if she is, as looks likely, developing a fear of the outdoors because of what she’s been through. She reminds me of Dolly in that respect, who in 19 years of life rarely set paw outside and was quite content indoors.
Drusilla is apparently well over a year old now, technically not a kitten at all, but she shows no signs of coming into season. Whether this is down to her suffering from malnutrition when we took her in, or whether she was neutered at an early stage in her life, we don’t know. We don’t want her to have the operation until she’s demonstrated that she’s reached physical maturity – and by that I mean yowling, screaming, obviously being up for some serious kitten-making.
You don’t have to wait, and many cat owners don’t, but there’s this sense in our home of it being important to let her body reach a certain stage of development before doing what must be done. This assumes, of course, that she hasn’t already been done. Apparently, though it makes no sense, it is not unusual for negligent owners like those Drusilla was once cursed with to have their animals neutered only to go on to abuse and abandon them.
If she still shows no signs in another month or two, we will need to get her to the vet because another possibility is that there is something wrong with her reproductive organs, something that prevents her coming into season. Goodness knows she gets plenty of food – she can get through two portions of wet food in one sitting, with another portion of dry food heaped on top. She eats far more than the other, much older, cats. She’s been known to finish her mountain of food and then start stealing from the others.
It may simply be that her development has been delayed by what she’s been through. I remember reading somewhere that some cats, dependent on their genetic heritage, can be as late as 18 months old before coming into season. If that is the case, she’s just going to have to stay inside until we see the signs. And then, reluctantly but responsibly, we shall take her to the vet’s. Just not until we know she’s fully matured.
8 comments on “Feisty feline update”
November 25th, 2006 at 8:37 pm
Thank you for the update - she is beautiful ……………..
November 25th, 2006 at 10:34 pm
I think she’s grown some over the last couple of months. Good to hear she’s doing well but I do hope she manages to overcome her fear of the outside world. Not tooo much though … we don’t want her wandering too much!
I think your decision to wait for her body to mature before taking her for the op is a good one. Surely it must be better for her.
November 26th, 2006 at 12:08 pm
I just think her hormones will be messed up, she’ll be emotionally confused for a while. Best to see her first season, if or when it comes, as a sign of her having grown up. x
November 27th, 2006 at 12:28 am
Thank you for updating us …
November 27th, 2006 at 11:54 am
Thank you, Sue. There’s been a very real sense of how many frequent commentators here have been sending goodwill to this little cat ever since we took her in and, of course, we’ve had several generous donations to her upkeep which means when the time comes, affording the neutering operation won’t be a problem - assuming she is eventually going to come into season.
I only hope she doesn’t do so at a time when D is away with work! The idea of transporting a cat in a carrier by taxi to the vet when she’s yowling for leurve fills me with horror! x
November 27th, 2006 at 11:59 am
I might also add that while she’s a naughty kitten, she’s also a good girl. She woke us early Saturday and Sunday, scragging Mandrake who in return gave as good as he got. It was all play but the noise was too much, so on Sunday I grabbed her and plonked her on the bed next to me, where I held her as a mother cat does - gently, by the back of the neck - for several minutes until she calmed down. Then she went to sleep.
Today, the alarm clock went off and the first thing I saw was Drusilla next to me, quietly staring at me. I said thank you for being a good girl, for not waking me up, and she gave a little meow. One wonders if she understood the lessons of the weekend, and wanted me to see she was behaving. It certainly felt that way.
Once we were up and about, it was business as usual: tearing round the house, slapping a few of the other cats around, being chased, squealing and demanding attention. We were fine with that. It’s the 6am playtime that had to go! x
November 27th, 2006 at 6:00 pm
You two seem to have a very special gift when it comes to bring the near dead back. Very glad she’s doing so weel.
November 27th, 2006 at 9:55 pm
Yep, just call us the Lazarus Boys. Hey, sounds like a cool name for an electro-pop duo! Our secret involves a certain degree of insanity, a lot of patience and heaps of love. x
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