Neigecapades

Of all of our cats, Neige is the one who has the most human qualities. He seems to convey love, empathy, desires, embarassment etc. with much more accuity than others in our feline brood. With the arrival of Ada, he continues to display the complexities of his personality. I must admit that I expected him to greet her as a new member of the family, as an extension of me and of David. This has not been the case. And had a been paying closer attention, I would have been able to see the signs earlier.

It started in early April when he came home filthy. Beyond filthy. His white-as-snow belly was the color of his back, the color of snow in March after it's been on the ground for a week and collects at the side of the road along with a winter's worth of oil and muck. And then he refused to clean himself. How could we be so blind? It was a sure sign of depression.

Then once Ada came home, it took him more than a week to even muster a glance toward either me or David. This was accompanied by further lack of grooming, manifesting itself in a musky odor. He also managed to fall asleep on a red pen and leak a silver dollar-sized ink spot on his white, well, still greyish belly.

And then we noticed the wounds: claw marks on his face around the lips and a bloody back paw. Clear signs of a cat fight. Not only had he lost the desire to take care of himself, but he was actively seeking out trouble in the neighborhood where he is known as the benevolent watchcat of Glenmawr, the paternal uncle of feline southern Clintonville, and an all around nice guy.
Oh, Neige, come back to us!

Neige expertly ignores us, while not so subtly showing us who should be the baby of the household.