Monday, April 3, 2017

My own personal Bagheera

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"A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path, for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down.” 
― Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Books
You looking at me? --Neko

Have you ever read Kipling's Jungle book? My little black kitty is a true descendant of Bagheera the Panther. He is extremely territorial to the point that he will attack people who come to our house. We have to put him the office so our guests do not have to fear teeth and claws digging into ankles or hands. The office has interior windows and he will stare at our guests the entire time they are here. We assume that he believes they leave because of him, because no one ever stays! Then he struts around like he owns the place. (I guess he does)

I am a sweet, adorable, delicate kitty.
You got a problem with that"
We have never been able to figure out how he got this way. We got him from a cat shelter when he was just 14 weeks old and he has always been this way. His first months of life before us must have been a struggle, or maybe he was just born this way. He is now 14 years old, and he will never change. However, he is the funniest cat I have ever had. He runs from place to place in the middle on the night. He stands on top of me in the morning and meowed into my ear to let me know it is breakfast time. He dances with an invisible cat all the time. He sits on my keyboard and stares at me. He has the ability to look so adorable and mews so sweetly when it is treat time.

He can be nice to me and very cuddly when he wants to be. He is totally in love with my husband. He will crawl into Ken's lap, put his paws on both sides of his face and stare into his eyes. I am only the human who gets his food and cleans his litter box. He was originally supposed to be my cat, but he let me know from the beginning that the bearded human gets his love and I have to deal with both ends of him. {{sigh!}} But for some reason, I just adore him completely, notwithstanding the scars on my arms from his teeth and claws.
Where's my treats?

This is what it is to be abused by a little black panther.

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