But she’s never really liked the small people, has never been good with the boys – and has always simply left the room when they’ve arrived, kept herself neatly out of arms reach.
But of course, with the advent of Bear, things have changed slightly. She’s old now (15), and she’s grumpy, and her legs are not up to jumping so much, and her sight’s not so good. She doesn’t want to be bothered with jumping out of the way of squeezy noisy grasping toddler fingers. She just wants to sit wherever the sun happens to be shining, and she can be warm and comfortable and quiet.
Last summer a local tom invaded the house and scented – she retaliated with scenting herself, and since then she has had to be shut in the conservatory every night with her bed, as she cannot be trusted not to wee/poo on the carpet over night if she’s left indoors (she has a catflap, mind).
She was put on probation at Christmas – Bear crawled super-fast at her from behind while she was sleeping. She hissed twice, Bear giggled and lunged, and the cat reacted and lunged back.
So, since being on probation she hasn’t so much as hissed at Bear – simply got up and walked away, and (most unheard of) has allowed herself to be petted on numerous occasions. She has however twice poo-ed in the house – just because it’s raining outside and she doesn’t want to go out in it. Oh and used her claws to climb the velvet curtains in the dining room (why??? she’s an old lady!!!!). She is also consistently asking for her dinner – 30 minutes after she’s been fed. She forgets, and when you place her next to her bowl she chirrups in happy surprise and tucks in again. Senile, see?
Anyhoo, kind of relaxed my guard and stopped watching her around Bear. Big mistake. Big, huge mistake. This evening Bear is sporting two new deep scratches on her cheek – missed her eye itself by maybe half a centimetre.
Can’t do it. Can’t have an animal in the house I can’t trust. One claw in a toddler eye could lose her the sight forever. And putting the decision off means I’m constantly waiting for a ‘next time’. One more chance, could be one chance to many for my girl, and next time she may not be so lucky. At the very least it could well scar her face.
So the cat is booked in to the vet wednesday morning, and I think the cage will be coming home empty.