The Biscuit’s Tribe As It Was…
Several of you have written me and asked to know more about The Biscuit and if we have other kitties in the house. Yes, there are two still at home and they and we are doing fine now though we all miss The Biscuit and things were tense for a few days as everyone settled into their new roles. All is fine now however. I wrote the following a year ago for another magazine, it might possibly be interestingly illustrative:
…The younger cats are collectively known as the Mitties and individually as Tashi-Claire (above) and Anoushka. They are metista littermates and became close after being shut up in the back bathroom together for a weekend when we first got them but hadn’t any litter boxes as yet. (plus which they were small enough to hide literally in plain sight!) Tashi-Claire is also called The Tosh. She’s a beautiful Russian Blue with short mithril-grey fur and a white bikini on her lean little tummy. The Tosh is all about the business, be it chasing a bug or sniffing the entire garden. Tosh has a difficult-to-care-for physical condition that requires expensive medications and regimen that requires a nightly squirt of liver-flavored antibiotic (which she hates) and a fish flavored prednisone chew (which she loves). Her favourite passtime is looking out the windows and angling to be let outside. She and Emmeline, the huge, beautiful white and tortie Maine Coon from Avocado House have formed an interesting alliance against Raunchy Randy, the narsty sealpoint Siamese bullycat. They will sit on opposite ends of the garden, making ladylike blinky-eye conversation until Randy heaves into view, then they go into invisibility mode. Once Randy is between them, they will launch themselves, miauwling at peak volume, hissing and spitting, Raunchy Randy tearing out for his home turf. Randy has never picked a fight in our garden since this strategy was launched.
Miss Kitty, whom we refer to as The Biscuit, is a beautiful Brown Classic Maine Coon with huge amber eyes, very affectionate and though she has arthritis, is on medication that is inexpensive and easy to deliver. When she allows us to, of course. The Biscuit is a sweet kitty who deserves the best home possible in her golden years, and had a lot of love and affection still yet to give. Her meds are working well for her, and she gets around just fine though she does limp a bit. She loves to be petted and have her ears skritched, and will kiss, nuzzle and rumble/purr nonstop to show her affection. Like most cats, the Biscuit is happy to be by herself most of the day, but prefers to be in the same room as other people in the house. She alternately sleeps or nature watches out the window quite contentedly all day. She sleeps through the night, does not spray or caterwaul and is mostly quiet, though she does have an endearing chirpy trill, common to the Maine Coon breed. She is getting on in years and is unable to cope with the physical teasing and interpersonal politics of the younger Mitties. They mean well, but are young enough to rough and tumble her to the point that it hurts, and we had to break up several corkers until the mitties understood they had to cool it.
The tribe of them have an easy but definitively heirarchical detente and are protective of one another, if often from afar. Anoushka is tiny charcoal fluffer with eyes like shiny black buttons, and is at times almost consumed by her extensive and fine downy chest ruff. She is a community-minded kitty and will vigorously defend the rights of other kitties she views as being placed under undue duress…such as toenail clipping, the monthly wash, the Bix’s curry combing and the poor Toshkit’s many and varied medications. She takes a Patrick Henry stance, with her tiny charcoal-fluffed forepaw up on a shoe, mounded towel or random scut of discarded newspaper. (we’ve often marvelled at her ability to stage a scene) She will, thus braced, stand in front of the imperiled kitty and its Tormentors (us) and make impassioned speeches entirely with her eyebrows. Occasionally, as if to underscore bullet points, she emits a wee, chirping, entirely charming trill.
Such is our Tribe, in which we two humans are privileged to be offered associate membership. We know our place as kitty butlers, maids and purveyors of the Sacred Skritch. And we are content…
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