Before Abe Left -- Cat

I realize there is no reason ALL of these posts need to be titled "before Abe left" -- particularly the ones that don't have much to do with Abe exactly. But . . . I already wrote posts about Abe being gone. And will continue to. So this little slew of posts here in the middle I wanted attached in my mind with the time frame of summer when we were all still here together. 

So. 

Cat.

Mike arrived at our Bear Lake cabin late on the night of Goldie's birthday (quite a few hours after the rest of us). He brought Goldie's presents along with him. (Though Daisy had already given her her gift -- additional playing cards for the Marrying Mr. Darcy game that they love [the "Emma" extension pack -- so the likes of Frank Churchill, Mr. Knightly and Harriet can now be part of the game]. A good call on Daisy's part as that gave Goldie something fun to do with her sisters while waiting for her late-night presents to arrive.)

Anyway, after being pushed somewhat hurriedly through a few gifts like a hammock chair, a locket, and some giant pretzels from Penny (perfect for dipping in caramel and chocolate), Mike directed her towards the cabin door -- explaining that her final present was just on the doorstep. 

And, when she opened the door, lo-and-behold there was Cat. A tiny little six-week-old boy kitten. The fun of giving him to her -- "Yes he's really yours. Yes of course you can get him out of his carrier and hold him." Well, it was pretty great.

We spent most of the rest of the night giving her name suggestions. And she spent most the rest of the trip narrowing it down and refusing to tell us once and for all what to call him. She eventually settled on Shasta (though it irks her that everyone says, "oh! like the soda!" instead of, "oh! like the boy in the Narnia book!"); but the naming took so long that, even still, he is called simply "Cat" as often as "Shasta" (even by Goldie).

He was incredibly mild at first. And every morning someone new had a tale to tell of how Cat had found his way to them and proclaimed them his favorite. He'd snuggled all morning next to sleeping Daisy, he'd curled himself up on Abe's stomach as Abe read his scriptures -- and then stayed there (with Abe unwilling to disturb him) until Abe had finally been forced to roll over so he could get some sleep, etc. 

 (I wonder who is winning at Boggle?)

 (Watching Summer draw.)

Since then however, he has become a complete Attack Cat. (In fact Goldie has already identified nine of his maneuvers: The Pounce, Hunchback, Sneak Attack, Room Rush, Jaws of Death, Scratching Post, Flying Ninja, Ankle Ambush, and Advance on the Innocent.) He is forever on the prowl, waiting to pounce, leaping onto feet and wrapping himself around ankles or hands with a fair amount of biting and clawing. I've seen him multiple times rear up like a horse and even fly through the air with paws splayed wide in his leaping attack. 

Mike, who has already informed Abe that he will likely have to be prepared to fight to Cat the minute he comes back in the door in two years time in order to establish himself, swears he was the calmest kitten in the litter; which leads me to wonder if the owners of the other kittens are living in abject terror. 

But. Shrug. He is pretty cute. And most of the kids (saving Hansie -- who yells for us to put Shasta outside every time he sees him) seem to tolerate having their limbs nearly eaten off quite well. They even seem to like the little fella. Goldie seems to think his behavior is altogether delightful. She is forever laughing and shaking her head, "Oh Cat. Cat's the best!" as she comes to one of our rescues. So, I suppose he will stay.

Still, he IS spending a fair amount of time outside!