She came into our house nervous and afraid courtesy of who knows what experiences she'd suffered before turning up at the RSPCA centre. Scarlet, our feisty tortoiseshell cat quickly showed her who was boss, and taught her to scratch at the patio doors to demand entry to the lounge. After many months of giving each other a wide berth, they eventually managed to muddle along.
Having been brought up with cats, no part of me was a dog person, and after many years of being shoved aside by an extremely alpha-male Labrador, I wasn't expecting to be tentatively courted by such a sweet, intelligent creature. Although everyone in the house was smitten on sight, she very quickly learnt that I was one of the few humans who didn't melt at the sight of her, showering hugs, kisses and generally as much fuss as one animal could demand.
If she could have spoken the dialogue on approaching me would have gone something like this:
"Excuse me, Jacky, but if you're not too terribly busy, I'd quite like the tiniest bit of affection. You're not in the mood? Never mind, maybe next time." And she'd dutifully back off and seek a more receptive victim.
Not being made of actual stone, I eventually succumbed to her timid, but oh-so-effective seduction techniques, but like the lady she was, she never overstepped her welcome, sensing the exact point when enough was enough. It didn't take long, however before she got me totally on side and I, too, would be treated to her paw hugging my leg to wring out the last few minutes of attention. Such an expert, she really knew how to work the room. We even managed not to encourage her to beg for scraps at the dinner table for the first few years. And not once did she ever attempt to bound on the furniture after learning this was forbidden. A real lady.
In the the past two weeks, we've visited many spots on our favourite walks, scattering some of her ashes in each place. So every time we visit, she will be with us.
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