The Magic of Bunny Pearl

Every time we bring home a new cat, I'm always a bit amazed by how they seem to find their place in the ecosystem of the house. As everyone's new BFF, Bunny Pearl (who should have been named Kevin, or maybe Birdie) has taken this to a whole new level. 

Bunny P and Taro

Somehow she has managed to befriend all of the other animals in the house--even Momo who absolutely does not need (or want) your love, or your attention, or, really, even your existence. Bunny Pearl can get anyone to snuggle up to her. I was surprised when nervous Taro slept with her but absolutely astounded when Falcon sent a picture of her sleeping with MOMO. 

Bunny P and Momo

Not only do they all seem to like her, but Bunny Pearl has also helped them to start liking, or at least tolerating, each other. Before her, Momo never spent time near the dog and Taro wouldn't even come downstairs. Now we occasionally see all four of them hanging out with us in the living room in the evenings.

Taro!

Shiro loves having a little sister. Despite Shiro's complete lack of chill, Bunny Pearl stands her ground, unfazed when the dog licks her face or barrels into her. Both of them meet me at the door when I come home from work and follow me around until I've put my things away and changed my clothes. They won't leave me alone until they're sure they've received enough pets. Lately they seem to egg one another on. Both come running when they hear the ice maker or the air popper, and they fight over whatever I drop. Bunny P and Shiro take turns begging at the table all doe-eyed. And, since Bunny P gets on the counters, Shiro thinks she should, too. Double trouble.

Bunny P and Shiro

Honestly, though, the real Magic of Bunny Pearl is the enthusiasm with which she engages with humans. She likes to show off for guests. She waits just outside a closed door so she can catch us up on the latest news with her unrelenting meowing. She licks our faces (and hands and toes) like a dog who hasn't seen its owner in years. She prefers to be carried like baby. In fact, her favorite position is cradled in our arms with her head and feet dangling. I had no idea cats could be so floppy. 

Honestly, I'm not even sure Bunny Pearl is a cat. Maybe she's an angel who hasn't earned her wings, yet. That might explain why she falls off of things all the time! 

Not Kevin

For years Falcon has been campaigning for a third cat. Once Shiro (our golden retriever service dog) joined us, she doubled down, insisting that Shiro needed a friend. Momo, our 7-year-old calico, and Taro, our 5-year old gray-blue cat, want nothing to do with Shiro. Since Shiro seems to have zero ability to be cool or chill, she consistently succeeds at fully irritating the cats. The always reticent Taro won't even be in the same room when Shiro isn't crated, and Momo has dealt with Shiro's boundless joy by clearly asserting her dominance. Whenever Shiro tries to say hello with a nose boop, she gets a cat-paw thwap on the head in return. 

Shiro demonstrating her lack of chill.

Thwap

For almost as long as Falcon has wanted a cat, I've wanted a cat named Kevin. Momo, Taro, and Kevin just has such an amazing ring to it. Momo, Taro, Shiro, and Kevin. 

Timid Taro

Momo doesn't need you

Recently Falcon had to have some blood drawn. Since she has an extreme needle phobia, having blood drawn is no easy feat. Every time she has to do something that requires a needle to pierce her skin, she asks me if I will give her another cat. I always say no. But the last blood test was different. First, Falcon asked me to take her to get it; I make it a point not to force her to have things done to her body without her permission, so I'd been waiting to get this one done for a few months. How do I make sure she is as healthy as she can be without forcing her? It's a difficult line to walk, but she has always come around to blood draws and shots on her own eventually (though sometimes with a lot of strong encouragement from me). This time, there was no cajoling. 

Second, even though the draw happened at a place where Falcon had one of her worst blood-draw experiences ever (they restrained her in something that looked a lot like a straightjacket), she walked into that lab like a champ. And, even though the phlebotomist decided that the best conversation topic to distract her was FOOD ALLERGIES and how sorry she felt for kids who have food allergies and especially for kids with PEANUT allergies,*** Falcon kept her cool. When the phlebotomist got a "bad" vein and had to try again on the other arm, though, the traumatizing allergy conversation started to get to Falcon. By the time the blood was drawn, she was positively pale, blue almost. Immediately, her body reacted to the stress by making her throw up. 

As the mom of a kid who struggles with this particular phobia, I couldn't imagine a worse scenario. How would I EVER convince Falcon to have blood drawn again? Of course, I left that experience praying she wouldn't need blood drawn for a long, long time. The universe didn't comply, though. It turns out Falcon is going to need more blood tests and probably fairly regularly. Not long before I had to give her that news, I decided it was time to get Kevin.

The hiccup, of course, is that I had to convince Ren that this was a good idea. He understood my motivation but also wondered why we needed another cat. He's sure he is the one who spends the most time caring for them (he's not). It took about three days for him to come around, and as soon as he gave the slightest indication that he would support the idea, Falcon and I were in the car on our way to the Humane Society. 

That's how cats come into our lives. 

We had a particular cat in mind when we got there, but the place was packed and the lines long, so we were sure she'd be gone. Both of us had a hard time being patient as we waited. When we finally got to the front of the line, we were thrilled to learn the cat was still there and that there was still enough time before they closed for us to see if she was the one for us.

She was.

But, apparently she isn't a Kevin. I mean, I campaigned HARD, but sometimes no one else in my family gets my sense of humor. Birdie was a close second choice for me, but that also got shot down. So, meet Bunny Pearl. She's named after the shiba-inu we had when we lived in Japan.

Bunny P

She seems right at home in MY CHAIR

Considering the fact that we were a pet-less family for more than 10 years, I find it pretty funny that we have so many animals living with us now. Just imagine how much vacuuming Ren has to do!

***For those who haven't been long-time readers: Falcon has many serious food allergies, including to peanuts.  Link and link.

I'm Pretty Sure Our Cat is Broken

The longer he lives with us, the more convinced I am that Taro doesn't know how to cat. Exhibit A:

Almost a perfect square.

This perfectly cleared square results from the assiduous work of one gray cat. He will NOT take care of his business unless he can place it on a perfectly clear, seemingly measured square space. We all know when Taro is about to use the litter box because it takes time and persistence for him to create his ideal conditions. We also know exactly how his digestive track is working because once he deposits his goods there, he leaves them completely uncovered for the world to see. I'm pretty sure our cat is broken.

Taro's favorite bath mat.

Taro sometimes confuses various geometrical objects for his litter box, too, which is surprising given how careful he is with the perfect square he clears. So far, he has used cushions, bathmats, and even bean bag chairs. There was also the unfortunate incident with the pea pod--do you know how hard it is to convince our kids to self-soothe in there now that they know what Taro did?! And, whatever you do, DO NOT leave an empty box lying around. Sure, there are all of those funny memes and videos of cats squeezing themselves cutely into boxes. That's not what Taro does when he sees one. And, I can't decide if it's good or bad that he only does these things intermittently. Either way, he just does it often enough that he's convinced us we don't really need bean bag chairs anymore. Seriously, he seems to be broken.

The pea pod always gets stored on its side now.

Do you want to play with Taro? Sure. Go ahead! It will be all fun and games until he forgets that you are not a mouse and scratches and bites you. But, if you actually want him to catch a mouse? Then, he will just sit and stare at it, and you will have to rely on the slowed reflexes of your spouse who can barely bend over thanks to all of the back surgeries. Seriously, the cat is broken. Look at his lightning fast reflexes:

My favorite part about our broken cat is his absolute obsession with Nerf bullets. Most of our Nerf bullets look like this. 

And, he's a huge fan of decapitating them.

He likes to chase and then chew up the little yellow balls used in the Rival guns, too.

We keep the Nerf bullets put away, but he has figured out where they're hidden and will boldly walk into Sky's room (even if Sky's in there studying), slip into the closet, and dig through the 30-gallon box of Nerf stuff until he finds what he needs. He still can't catch a mouse, though.

All I can say is that it's a good thing this cat is cute.

Photo edit by Stow