At the first acquaintance at Mila’s, she seemed nowhere to be found. Nothing strange about it, according to her owners. As a cat of age, she spent most of her days snoozing. Indeed, I first laid eyes on her while she was taking a nap! During the sit, she can’t have missed me while I was at work. When I came home early every evening, she was there without fail, winding around my legs. In fact, there were two or three moments per day she gladdened me with her attention; feeding time to start with. Being an elderly cat on a diet, she was quite fixed on these moments. When waking up well before dawn, I already heard her meowing out loud. I praised myself lucky my bedroom was on the top floor, where she rarely set foot. She only did that, when I went as far as to sleep in until very late; let’s say, seven thirty.
To prevent her from scoffing up her biscuits, I brought a food puzzle with me. Once upon a time I bought it for another cat I sat, who even managed do complain out loud at the balcony next to the bedroom in the dead of night when his stomach was growling. Using such a puzzle keeps the feeling of hunger away for a bit longer, and it is also good for the grey cells. It does take the average cat a while to learn the ropes. Or is it instinct in action, what we actually see here?
‘The way to a cat’s heart is through his stomach,’ a flatmate once said to me. My own cat, the lovely Sheeba, would only sit on my lap. Due to our special bond, I was sure of that. The flatmate disagreed: because it’s your hand that is feeding her. I clearly remember feeling insulted, and thought about the comment while sitting Mila. The first few days, she kept her distance. In the course of time, she gradually moved towards me. Until she was there, right by my side.