Two Tabbies and a Motherly Mutt

Poor Kitt. 

Kitt is a gray tabby, and she was our only pet until the kids and I adopted Hope, a high-strung, black and white mutt with low self-esteem and an intense desire to people-please. Since Kitt wasn't a people, Hope's concern didn't extend very far in her direction. So Kitt galumphed around the house, looking disgusted and put out. Still, over time, a certain partnership developed between them.

When Kitt and Hope were each about five years-old, another interloper moved in, an orange tabby kitten we named Silas. Hope, in her inscrutable wisdom, saw fit to mother Silas and would groom him, shepherd him, and watch over him as he suckled from a blanket amidst those stilts she calls legs. Hope was so busy with Silas that she pretty much forgot about Kitt.

Silas loved Hope and really did seem to think he'd been blessed with a new mother, which in a way, he had, although I'm not sure blessed is the right word. Hope could be overprotective and a tough disciplinarian. If I scolded Silas, Hope would spring to attention, cuff his ears, and herd him away. It was as if no one was going to discipline her child for long before she'd be back in charge, taking matters into her own paws. Still, Silas was thrilled so that was nice.

Hope let Silas climb on her, and chew on her, and pounce unexpectedly on her, while Kitt sat across the room, watching in that I-don't-care-but-you-know-I-really-do kind of way that only cats can. Sometimes even Hope, who is an energetic dog, looked worn out, as all mothers do at times.

Poor Hope.

When Silas did try to befriend Kitt, he didn't know how to do it in a way acceptable to her. Sometimes he would join her on my bed and the two would doze peacefully together - four feet apart.

But most of the time, Silas would chase Kitt and jump on her until Kitt took off for higher ground as if Silas were a flood. 

Sometimes I'd catch Kitt looking out the window and wondered if she was planning to leave. 
















Then something happened that neither Hope nor Kitt, and certainly not Silas could have foreseen. Silas began to grow up. He got bigger and acted more like a cat than a kitten. He wasn't as dependent on Hope anymore, though they still enjoyed each other's company, and more often, he was content just to be by himself. 

Silas also began enjoying the doings of us humans. He wanted to be nearby for our baths and our naps and especially our dinnertimes. He liked working on his big guy swagger so he could seem like an even more grownup cat.

Eventually, Silas was so grown up that he was just as likely to be the one looking at Hope like she was the crazy kid instead of the other way around like it used to be. 

Then one day I caught Silas looking out the window as though he wanted to leave. 

Poor Silas.

But Silas was willing to watch and wait just as Kitt had done, and maybe he'd learned his patience from her. Over time, the three of them found their way and settled in like their own little family, even though Kitt still looks more put out than the other two. 

Frankly, I think Kitt is happier than she looks. One day, not long ago while Silas napped, I glanced over and saw this. 

                                                                                                   Lucky Hope and Kitt.

All photos by Teece Aronin. Copyright protected. Some photos available for sale at Redbubble.com/people/phylliswalter.