The Cave-dweller

I try to spend time with each of the cats, though how easy that is depends, among other factors, upon their habits. I like to give company to Millie just before going to bed, as that seems to be when she is most sociable. Though now thoroughly friendly, there are periods in the day when, despite the door to the cat-room being open, or despite my presence in the room, she will prefer not to socialise.

In the late evening, before we all retire for the night, I will often sit in the cat-room, with the door closed, to discourage the sometimes stressful stares and attempts to enter by other cats. Millie will almost always come over to lie beside me on the couch, and contentedly purr while I stroke her fur or rub her head.

After dinner, however, when I try to set aside some minutes for relaxation with a cup of tea, Mills will keep me company for a while, but rarely will she lie quietly next to me. She will wander about, climb her cat-tree, come down again and then, almost invariably, slip into her suitcase-house (an enclosed cat-bed with a convenient carrying handle on its top.) There, regardless of encouragement to re-emerge, she will stay, like a tiny prehistoric tiger in her cave. She may come out later; if the door to the cat-room is left open, she may explore a bit. But her schedule clearly doesn’t have ‘socialise’ jotted down for those hours. She will allow me to spend time in the cat-room, if I so wish, but I will do so alone.

Such is the advantage of fostering: learning the character of a cat, to know what she likes, when she likes it, and why it isn’t always a bad thing when she performs an action that seems off-putting. For cats, there is always a time and place for everything, and sometimes, Millie simply prefers to be a little cave-dweller.