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The Shameless Hussies: read the novel online

Rumination:  And then there were two

It was the worst day of Basil’s whole life.  For all of his 13 years, he’d been the only one, the First Feline, the Boss. To the other cats in the lane, Basil was a long-haired fighting machine, a whirling dynamo of teeth and claws; but inside the house, he was a big girl’s blouse. Sometimes he was scared of his own biscuits.  Try, if you will, to imagine a four-legged Graham Norton covered in long, chocolate-brown fur.   Life, as he knew it, was about to change forever.

     We collected Charlie when he was 7 weeks old, the last in the litter of mackerel tabbies.  We first saw him playing all alone in a pile of washing, tumbling happily through the clothes.   The stripes on his little face looked as if they had been painted on with a fine brush.  I picked him up, he winked at me, and the deal was sealed.  Our miniature tiger was packed into a cardboard box and we set off, thrilled with our new addition, but dreading the reaction of the Boss.

     Charlie’s first home with us was the utility room, where he crouched in the new bed we had bought for him, his kitten-blue eyes enormous.  Basil looked suspiciously at the door, his tiny brain just beginning to register that something was very, very wrong.   

     When we opened the door to let them get acquainted, out shot Charlie like stripy bullet. He ran up to Basil, who was extremely particular about his personal space, and greeted him with an excited ‘Grrr!’ Wham. Basil knocked him off his feet with a paw as large as Charlie’s head, before running upstairs with a hiss and a yowl.  He remained there for the rest of the day, cowering.  His world was ending:  there was an ANIMAL in his house.

     Thus began the pattern of weeks to come.   Basil would hiss and yowl at the sight of Charlie, leaving little doubt about his opinion of the barbaric home-wrecker.  Charlie wanted to play, and didn’t seem to mind that all of his friendly overtures were met with naked hostility.  He ran around with his paintbrush tail upright, afraid of nothing.  Basil whacked him hard whenever his personal space was invaded, but we noticed that he never used his claws.  He was defending his territory, but only to make the point.

     Over the next two months, we consulted everyone for ideas of how to ease the transition.  Some friends said that their cats were grooming each other within three months of meeting; others said that theirs were still traumatised years later.  One suggested that we cover Charlie in cat food so that Basil would lick him clean.  The vet said just to give it time. 

     We adored Basil – had we made a terrible mistake by forcing him to share his house?    We lavished love and treats on him to make amends.  Basil soaked it up and whacked Charlie just as hard.   The house resounded to the sounds of grrr! – hiss – yowl - thud.

 Detente, but not as we know it

We began to notice subtle signs of improvement in relations after about 3 months.  The two felines could share a room as long as they were far apart, and Basil’s protestations took on a more routine note, as if he were keeping up appearances.  ‘Yowl, hiss, already.’ 

     Unfortunately, after another couple of months, Charlie’s hormones began to rage.  He started to retaliate and whack back more as he grew in size.  And there was something more:  Charlie started pay an inappropriate amount of attention to Basil’s hind quarters, leaping on him from the rear with a very determined look on his little face.  A note of panic entered Basil’s yowl.  

     It was at last time for Charlie to be neutered, and there was great rejoicing in the land. Within a few hours of his operation, however, the thunder of paws on the stairs told us that he was chasing his darling around the house again. 

     Six weeks on, and Basil is slowly learning that, if he does not run away, Charlie loses interest in the game.  He hunkers down and makes a show of ignoring Charlie, growling like Marge Simpson under his breath while Charlie paws his tail or commits other outrages upon his person.  Sometimes Charlie gives up and settles down a foot away;   sometimes he perseveres until Basil can’t stand it any more, and then they’re off.   Grrr!-hiss-yowl-thud.

     It’s not yet a post-conflict situation, but major hostilities do seem to be over.

  Vanessa

 Have another point of view?  Email us with your own story.