Holding HandsAbout two weeks ago, Gris-Gris (on the right) slipped out, and was outside for the entire night. We live in a small city, and to keep our boys safe, we don't let them wander. You may recall the guest blog my husband, Peter, contributed on the subject ("Detente", August 15). We haven't declawed them (I believe it's inhumane), so our furniture is shredded, but we prefer healthy, happy cats to a perfect home. It's a scary world out there for a pampered kitty-cat; cars, dogs, mean people, disease, hunger, weather... Poor Gris was traumatized, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Hobie reacted accordingly. It was awful! When they needed each other the most, they only saw fear and aggression. How human of them!
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I am happy to report that fences have been mended, and our boys are once again best friends. They spoon on our bed each morning after we get ready for work, and snooze and snuggle all day (I've caught them!). They rally when we get home, and beg for yummies, then do the obligatory high-tailed sumo wrestling performance on our living room rug. At bed time, they're right there, curled up on the bed, watching TV with us, belly-up. Their favorite mousie is carried from room to room.
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Our boys love each other. Love is good. I believe this is true for all species.
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Life has returned to normal in the Eckert-Bourdelle household. We were concerned, because their reaction to each other was based on the defensive signals they each threw. Just like wounded people; just like us. They've healed. We're a family again. Whewwww! We can learn so much from our animal friends.
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