Feline selective attention requirement

Rick said:

Afterwards, she wanted a stroke. Which is difficult given that most attempts at stroking usually are met with a stern DO NOT TOUCH THE FUR (think of a female feline Fonz).

We have three.
In descending age:
Merlyn – adopted rescue cat estimated age 18 +/- 2, black long hair, brush only while wearing kevlar lined chain-mail gauntlets unless she wants fuss at 4-5am. The fuss will cease when she wants and any micro-second extension is Tasmanian devil territory. Chris has had 2 A&E visits (I’m faster).
Food demands are a strong almost audible stare while sitting at the bowl. Mild displeasure is shown with hiss through an extended rolled tongue, wise souls learn to move. She needs brushing I need the skin on my hands

Freddy – approx. 10. Adopted rescue cat looks like a Turkish van cat long silky smooth coat holds water for long enough to wet you by shaking himself after he comes in. Brushing is sometimes permitted, but no more than about a dozen strokes but he doesn’t need it because everything slides off.
Food demands are sitting in a posing stance by the normal location of his bowl where he will remain until you move any erroneously located bowl the full 5-10 centimetres needed to put it in it’s “proper” location. Do not place the bowl at 90 degrees to its normal orientation, this is seriously bad fuff-shui.
If you don’t arrive quickly he will sit at your side and operate mouse and keyboard for you. Short break here – Fred is tugging at my trouser leg to fetch me to the bowl.
If you wake with a feeling of major compression on your chest then Freddy clearly needed under bed heating and you’re it. May have been neutered early thus explaining the pathetically high pitched wussy sounds he makes.

Minnie – Approx. 8. Black & white. Straight off the Felix packet but long hair. Smart cookie and if she was stronger we would need child-proof locks on the windows to keep her in. Dreamies addict guides Chris to the cupboard for regular servings, always selects the best food by nicking someone else’s bowlful¹.
Named as Minnie when she first turned up in the garden since she was a tiny waif, now referred to as Pansy porker² weighing in at 5.2kg. Produces only “proto-tangles” and will demonstrate how she picked up the nickname of “Ninja-kitty”³ if you try to brush her.
Sits in trees and says Meow (like a human, not a cat noise)

All a far cry from Moet (RIP) who would walk back and forth rubbing against any brushed raised for the purpose. “self-brushing cat” was Chris’s description. Barked at dogs and squirrels.

I’m not sure whether this is all normal for cats or whether we’ve never had a normal cat.

I know my place in the staff.

¹ All cats operate on the belief that you give the best stuff to someone else and therefore the nicked stuff is the tastiest.

a normal cat.

What the hell is that? I don’t think such a thing exists.

There have been many cats, the most recent being:

Tiny – indoors – very cute, often called cartoon cat (some photos on my blog). You could pretty much do anything to her (stroke anywhere, tug the ears, put her into one of those baby carry slings) so long as you let her sleep when she wanted, which was all the time. Died of heart failure because getting up and moving was just too much effort. She liked listening to eighties music with an earpiece clipped to an ear. Wasn’t entirely sure about Kalafina, but then again she probably thought they were singing cats. She got out once, came back with a bloodied nose and a small lizard hanging from her collar (it had tried to go for her neck). She was…quite clueless. When a mouse got into the back, it died of fright long before Tiny figured out what it was. Tiny was pretty quiet when not in heat.

Ellie – outdoor – mother of Tiny and Nou. Was ridiculously independent. Had a broken foot from where somebody had tried to terminate her existence, failed, and passed her on, eventually to us. She grew to like her humans, and even once in a while sat on my lap. One thing that was certain, whenever and wherever, Ellie was there watching. We just didn’t know where. And calling didn’t help. She’d come when she wanted and that was that. Ellie was silent. She’d go through the motions of mewing, but no sound would come out.

Nou – outdoor/sheltered. He liked his humans and he guarded his territory in such a manner that even with Wawa yowling, nobody would dare come near. He hated other cats, and I’ve had to hose him down just so the other cat dumb enough to pay a visit would escape still alive (albeit with rather less fur than it started with). As Nou got older, he liked to be out in the day and locked up at night. He’d lead me down to his stable at sunset. Nou wanted to be in the middle of everything. You’ll probably have noticed a part of him in quite a few outdoor photos and videos on my blog. Talking about an ebook? Oh look, there’s a Nou… He hardly made any noise, just a sort of “eht” like a mildly agitated parrot.

Wawa – indoor – found when she was a few weeks old, sitting in the road beside her flattened brother. We guessed she’d been abandoned. Very furry, like a Norwegian or something. Constantly wants fed, perhaps because she’s hyperactive. Very few photos of Wawa exist. Most attempts result in a sort of out of focus black blur. She speaks. Mew and Meow (like a human) complete with punctuation. There is a definite difference between “Mew?” and “Mew.” and “Mew!”, and God help you if you should do something that elicits a “MEW!”. You will see and understand the punctuation. Likes to be stroked. Doesn’t like to be touched. Doesn’t go psycho on you but you will be assaulted by large amounts of punctuation and she will be more than willing to share her opinion, in full.
Actually, one can have entire conversations with Wawa. I talk to her, she talks back, and if I talk to much she cuts in.
Never ask her a question like “do you think I’m being stupid” or “is this a dumb idea”. She will reply. You will understand the reply. You will not like the reply. And days later you’ll realise…she was right.
Got out, ran around like a crazy whirlwind, and mere minutes later charged in the front door (as in “been there, done that, it’s dinnertime”).

I think cats are actually from another planet and they’re here to observe us. Some are better at it than others (Tiny!). Some prefer a hands off approach (Ellie) while others attempt to see if we are capable of intelligent conversation (Wawa). I don’t think any of them have found signs of life worthy of particular attention, but this strange large mostly furless failed cat with the little bags of Felix, that gets their vote even if this lumbersome creature can’t manage to “cat” correctly.