cats.html

	At this point, I have a confession to make. If anyone had ever tried to tell me the truth about Abyssinians, I'd have written them off as dotty. The truth that hard to swallow.
	Everyone, this is Unkamen Little Girl, or simply Elgee. She's a registered Blue Abyssinian, and has become the absolute power in my home.
	First of all, there is no place that she cannot get to if she so desires. Elgee has learned how doorknobs can be turned, how to open a door that comes towards you, and how to hitch a ride on any human available.
	All cats are living art; things of extraordinary beauty that offer both companionship and aestheticism. The Abyssinian is nothing short of animated porcelain. It is as though they are aware of their elegance, and wish to flaunt it, tastefully.
	There are a host of behaviors these cats exhibit that their owners term 'Aby-normal,' and with good reason. First, their vocabulary is huge. Elgee has around fifty distinctly different 'words' she uses regularly. The one that cracks everyone up happens when you interrupt her in the middle of a scheme - it sounds exactly as though she was saying, "Noooo!"
	There are limitations. They are too possessive of their owners to allow another Aby to share; you can only have one. However, they are protective, to a point. Let a someone unexpectedly knock at the door, and they go into I'm-protecting-you mode; they begin growling very low, and place themselves between the owner and the door.
	Elgee was the defective runt of the litter; she nearly had to be destroyed. Solely because of the breeder's love was she nurtured to good health, though the defect required that she be neutered. Another neat fact about Aby's is, they don't age much: the personality you get by eighteen months or so is the one you're going to live with. Elgee is still 90% kitten, and only 10% cat. That's okay by me!
	As with all cats, Aby's are affectionate, but on their terms. Elgee has a minimum requirement of three attend-to-me sessions per day, in between the three or four playtimes, and of course, the requisite dozens of naps.
	Elgee isn't the first cat I've owned; just the latest. Before her I found this kitten at the animal shelter in Haverhill, Massachusetts. As soon as I got him home and got a look at those feet, there was only one possible name for him - Paddle Paws, or simply Paddy.
	As you can see, about eighteen months later, he'd grown into those paws.
	Books here was a story. She was the consummate hunter. When I had to give her up, my best friend, Jim Kessler, took her for me, and she adored him. However, she was practical in the extreme. When Jim was dying of cancer, she would climb on top of him and begin purring and kneading. He, in turn, would holler, and his nurse would put Books outside, which is just what she wanted in the first place!
	A great many animals use tooth-displays to warn others to leave them be for now. Wide-body never liked to be bothered by people, so his display was superb! "See what I have? And I can use them on you!"
	Here is a male cat named "Hunter." Generally, the males don't do much hunting, but he was spectacular at it. He too wasn't big on socializing.
	A few weeks back I took Elgee back to visit relatives. Colleen had a house-full, and among them these five sort of pre-teenagers.
	At this age they are still completely kitten, but have almost all the dexterity they ever will.
	Everyone, I'd like you to meet 'Peanut.' She's a ruddy Aby that my fiancé thought was adorable. Well, Peanut is a 'runt'; too small to be bred. Two weeks after this visit to the breeder, I told June that Peanut was hers. Hasn't stopped crying yet! (I think that's good, isn't it?) Peanut doesn't know she's small. She stood up to both Elgee and our other cat, Kitt, who at twenty pounds plus blots out the sun.
	A lot of the play is hunting practice for them, and they work hard at it, even though it's been generations since any of them had anything but one another to hunt.
	If you think their eyes see everything, you should get a load of their olfactory skills. They are on a par with dogs.
	Of course, Elgee saw immediately that she was the adult here, and tried to behave the part by taking over.
	Didn't intimidate this one even a little.
	Or this one.
	If anything, they gave Elgee a resounding yawn.
	Though this one did sort of wonder what was wrong with Elgee.
	Peanut has become the 'second force' in our home, or perhaps co-conspirator is more correct.