Cattitudes

Wooly Bully was actually a cat.

Flapjack, Applesauce, Mustang Sally, Hujan ("rain" in Bahasa Indonesia), Peter, and Simon are our cats. Four of them are known more commonly by their nicknames Jack, Saucy, Sally, and Johnny, Each one of these babies is a rescue. Each one of them came from the street...3 of them from the literal middle of the road (apparently that's a good place to ditch kittens when there are too many around the house).

Jack and Sally

While six is a lot of cats, I am happy to report that I know quite a few people who have more than we do, so I take some solace in that. The biggest thing that makes me feel not-so-bad
about the number of cats we have is the feeling that their lives are better now - safer, happier, and, I would also say that they know they have a good family,

Our cats are very Indonesian (or Javanese, maybe) and they are very serious about their "together time" (bersama-sama). It may take a little time for them to meet each other and get used to each other, but that phase usually
passes quickly and they become one family.

Jack is the big daddy of the family - when Saucy ran to Tatok as a small kitten almost 2 years ago, an older Jack was not far behind. He had been taking care of Saucy and was very protective of her. He still is. But more than that, it seems to be Jack's nature to be that way. One might think that Saucy would be a spoiled princess because she doesn't remember those hard times. She's not, though. She's shared the love she was given with countless abandoned kittens who've passed through our lives. She shares the love that she's received. I'm biased about these babies - I've never seen anything like it in my life.

Mustang Sally

 And then along comes Sally. Mustang Sally, girl you got to slow that Mustang down! We had been taking care of two kittens abandoned by a neighbor when one suddenly disappeared. After combing the enclosed and walled-in neighborhood, we couldn't find her. I then allowed her sister, Tina, into the house so that she wouldn't be alone outside. A couple of weeks later, I awoke at 3 am to the cries of a kitten outside. Ever hopeful, I jumped up and ran outside to see if Sophia had returned. It was not Sophia, but a tiny kitten under a car across the street. With 3 kitten-cats inside, I didn't want any more, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the one under the car, either. Why was she screaming so?

Sally and Johnny

I watched from across the street as the trash men came - immediately she ran out and began to follow them on their rounds. Afraid that she would be scooped up and thrown in the trash trailer, I approached. Sure enough she was scooped up - and then handed directly to me. "Mau dia?" "Do you want her?" the man asked. Without thinking, I took her and we went inside. We sat in a chair together and she voraciously ran around my lap and intermittently snuggled in my neck. So full of energy and life. Mustang Sally had arrived. I didn't want to put her down with the others even though for some reason, she wasn't dirty or stinky. I got the small cage I use for found kittens and put her in with some soft food and a blanket. I let her sleep in my room so that we'd both have a little peace. Later, I'd introduce her to the others.

Sally was welcomed into the clowder of cats and they all got along well. Sadly, Tina fell sick with a respiratory illness and we lost her. About that same time, we had another kitten on the terrace that had been dropped in the middle of the street. Eventually, he too would join the group and they would all live happily. 

Hujan ("Johnny")

Jack, Sally, Johnny, Saucy

I was determined not to have any more kitten-cats in the house. If I had to wear earplugs and blindfolds when out and about, I'd do it, but NO MORE CATS.

And then came Peter and Simon on Christmas Eve. 

Coming home from church activities on Christmas Eve, there in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere were two kittens huddled into a mass that looked like a crumpled paper bag. When I got off the motorcycle, they ran right up to me and again without thinking, I just scooped them up.

Peter and Simon lived on the terrace for three months. Every morning at 6am or earlier, I woke up to feed them and to free them from their cage. They'd stay in the yard and play, but as time passed, they began to venture further and further away. Luckily, however, they'd always come when I called them. Our activities have us out of the house, and often it can be for four hours or more. After a trip to the vet, I decided to let them join the family inside. Johnny was overjoyed - he wasn't the baby anymore!

Sally, Mustang Sally, wasn't very happy about it, but I thought she'd come around.

Sally, Jack, and Saucy (before)

Saucy had accepted Johnny and Sally as babies - they cuddle with her and relish their esteemed positions. Jack oversees the clowder like a humble king. 

Jack, Johnny, Saucy

I had begun to notice, however, even before I let the little ones into the house, that Sally is kind of pushy. Sally, actually, might be a kind of cat bully.

She's sweet and she always apologetically looks at me when she pushes the limits, but with Peter and Simon, she was having a harder time. 

She often growls and them and even takes a swipe at their little faces with gusto.

How could she act like this when she was raised with nothing but kindness?

Of course, if you're an American and reading this you're probably thinking "Charlotte, cats don't get along - they're jealous!" To be honest, I always thought that too, but that hasn't been my experience here.

Yes, six cats is a lot - six cats are probably too many in most contexts, but as long as they can be healthy, happy, and well-fed, I don't know what else to do.

And now back to Sally.

What should be done with one who doesn't want to consistently get along and play nice with others? How do we treat those who frequently and unpredictably lash out at others? How do we accommodate them?

It's funny how when we're talking about a cat, an animal, it may be easy to think that we can just "get rid of it". Give it away, put it outside, or even take it into the country and let it go.


But what do we do when people are like that?

"Oh, that's just how she is - you have to be patient"

"He's just a man and you know they act like that"

"He's your father - you have to respect him"

"You need to be patient and understand that they don't have the same back ground as you - they're less educated and from the country"

"She brought you into this world - it's her right"

My cats are among the closest relations I have here. Yes, I'm blessed to have a small group of friends that I enjoy and feel I can trust, but these cats - well, they're like family,

When I see a cat - whether it's Johnny, Peter, or Simon - or even Saucy! - recoil in response to a simple gaze from Sally, I remember a term from Psychology class long ago.

Mental health professionals call that feeling "walking on eggshells" and it's used when describing life with a person who is emotionally or physically abusive, and who may even have what is called "borderline personality disorder".

Is Sally's behavior tormenting the cats who DO know how to get along and play nice? If I lived with a person who made others in the house feel scared and nervous like that, what would I do?

A comforting thing is that the difference between a human and a cat means that we can talk to people who act like that - we can reason with them. We can share how their behavior affects others, we can ask them to be considerate, to have compassion, to change.

Seems easy, doesn't it? But can you imagine a child asking a parent to calm down and not be scary? How about a wife to a man who uses her face as a punching bag? How about a husband who's scarred by rants of worthlessness and endless mind games?

Even if we are able overcome the power distance and to communicate the need for change, change isn't as easy as being asked - they have to want to change and nothing we say can MAKE them "be nice". In fact, when we're talking with abusive people about their behavior, many of them show the same kind of understanding and compassion that is mostly expected from an animal. Even a house cat.

Mustang Sally

And now I'm back to Sally.

Sally hasn't been fixed yet and her good days and good times are greater than her lashing-out times. She and Saucy will be fixed next week and I'll see if that makes her act nicer to the others. If she still walks around the house making the others afraid or if they run under the sofa when they see her approach, I'll have to do something.

I don't like bullies and I don't believe that a home should be poisoned by one who doesn't, or can't, realize the needs of others to feel safe and loved. Sally is loved and cared for just like the others, but a happy home is only as happy as those in it. Cowering in fear or walking on eggshells isn't the way for anybody to live, cat or human.