I assumed when we brought Peter home from a farm that he’d be your typical male cat. What I didn’t know, was that in fact he is a dog trapped inside a cat’s body.
He drinks from the toilet. He loves playing in water and will frequently hang out at the edge of the bathtub completely entranced. He has been known to herd the children – when they aren’t full-out chasing the poor dude.
He puts up with all sorts of abuse ranging from being carried and flung around by his little armpits to moonlighting as Julia’s baby-doll. I think he secretly enjoys being dressed up. Though, usually his right eye ends up twitching spontaneously during these times which makes me wonder if it’s possible he could be mildly stressed.
Despite the abuse, he follows us around when we go for walks and occasionally allows being led on a leash and usually comes when he’s called.
He loves his little girl and gives us a good grr-yeowl if we try to remove him from her bedroom at night. Julia has conditioned him to be more comfortable shimmying himself under the covers, head peeking out the top, than merely lying on top of them.
He still does have some kitty instincts left. He’s still an adept climber and loves to make us all nervous when he’s 20 feet in the air either in a tree or on a roof. He absolutely loves to hunt small prey like squirrels, birds and the occasional Schnauzer.
Julia loves him.
We love him.
I wonder if our new puppy will love him.
… Stay tuned. Only 6 more weeks until we bring home baby Boomer the 2nd.