The Reluctant Uncle

Neville doesn’t like other cats. He doesn’t dislike them; he has tolerated the other perma-cats quite well. Those who spend a long time in the Cosy Apartment learn that the Nevsky has no interest in them, and they leave him alone. Renn and he acknowledge each other, like two old men who nod a greeting when they pass one another in the corridors of a retirement home, but they don’t associate with each other. Nev and Imogen are each happy to ignore the other’s presence.

The relative newcomers are different. They are young – even Brazil isn’t long past kittenhood – and they are eager at least to meet other felines; if they cannot make friends with them, they at least want to know them. So it is with Neville. He won’t play with the youngsters, tries to avoid them when he can, and even grumbles (I can’t really call it a growl) and moves away when they are near.

But sometimes, as one grows older, it is easier just to put up with inconvenience, rather than go to so much trouble that one causes even more inconvenience. Thus, Neville seems slowly to be taking on the persona of the reluctant uncle. You know the one: he sits in his chair while the visiting children clamber over him; he doesn’t leave because it’s his chair and he’ll stay there, no matter what. The children will try to put a funny hat on his head so many times, it’s less bother to leave it on than keep taking it off. When the kids at last leave, he can lie back and snooze, enjoying the peace.

Many families have a reluctant uncle. Neville appears to be ours.