PAW-RENT DIARY
When a dog owner becomes a cat mum.
when it comes to adding a new furkid to the family, I’m no novice. After adopting three pooches (at different times, of course), I consider myself quite the expert—but Scotty changed everything. I’ve been a dog paw-rent for many years, so I’d never pegged myself as a cat person. Don’t get me wrong, cat lovers. I adore almost all things furry, but after being swiped at on several occasions by unpredictable or less-than-friendly felines, I had become cautious.
However, a few months ago, I found myself at a cat adoption drive—just to take a look. “I have two dogs,” I emphatically told the volunteers. Like Singapore’s family planning campaign of the 1970s, I had decided to “Stop at Two”. Furthermore, becoming a cat mum was never on the cards.
And then I met a black cat that put paid to that resolve.
The dark side
I have a weakness for black animals. It has everything to do with Obi, a (mostly) black and tan Chihuahu across—the first furkid my husband and I had together. So when
I saw a volunteer carrying a five-monthold black kitty at the adoption drive, I was immediately drawn to him. When his limpid eyes met mine, I swear I heard him say: “Bring me home, Mama.” And a month later, he joined the fur-mily. We named him Scotty.
Adopting Scotty was never a slapdash decision. After I’d expressed interest in adopting him, I had cold feet and wondered if I should text his fosterer to call the whole thing off. What did I know about cats? What if my two furry girls didn’t approve? What if Scotty’s sweet demeanour at the adoption drive turned out to be a facade? What if I turned out to be the world’s worst cat owner?
Cat mum in training
Remember the bit about me being an expert with new fur-mily members?
That went out the window when Scotty joined the pack. Although Scotty is more affectionate than most kitties, it was a steep learning curve.
The first time Scotty had a case of the zoomies, I was backed up against the wall, trying to find a route of escape. I never had a cat before this, so I was alarmed when
the little guy suddenly went “berserk”. The first time he inadvertently scratched me during playtime, I became terrified of him for three days. My heart pounded when I entered his room, and I gingerly petted his head with one finger.
“There are four animals in this house: Two dogs, one cat, and one chicken,” my husband remarked, only half in jest. I’d penned and edited numerous articles on cat behaviour and care, so I wasn’t ignorant. But I’d been a dog owner for so long that it took a while for my subconscious to get the memo. It may sound silly, but I had to psych myself in the initial stages to bond with Scotty on his level—the feline level. Over time, I began to discover the joys of being a cat mum.
Puss in the hood
Scotty is now eight months old and things are going swimmingly. His subsequent meetings with his fur siblings have been a lot more successful than the first, when he hissed at Bella. While the three furkids haven’t progressed to cuddling each other to sleep, there’s no doubt that Scotty is part of the pack. They sniff each other and wait together in the kitchen when dinner is being prepared.
Bella is extremely respectful of him and his space, so Scotty is cool with her. Piper wants to be in charge, but Scotty won’t have any of it. So when she doesn’t give him space, he warns her by holding his paw up in front of her face with claws slightly extended—or what my husband coins the “Iron Man palm”. It’s the cutest thing, and it’s enough to make our feisty princess back off. Finally, someone who can put her in her place.
Although cross-species paw-renting isn’t for everyone, it’s the most beautiful feeling in the world when you’re lying in bed, surrounded by your entire brood. It’s absolute bliss.
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