Tarquin's sister

I hope Tarquin doesn't mind me taking a little break about writing about him to briefly talk about his sister, Mimsy. There will still be a Tarquin presence in this story. I used to tell Tarquin his family history: "You were a Greta kitty. Mimsy's your sister from a different litter of Greta's, and Rory's her son and your nephew." His eyes usually glazed over by the last part.

Cool toes

But last night I told Mimsy that I realized that she just might be the last surviving Greta kitty. I'm not 100% sure of that, since Greta was one prolific cat. And it's possible some of the neighbors near Wright Street  might have taken in some of her progeny. But at least in our little cat pod, Mimsy is the last surviving Greta kitty. (As a side bar: Mimsy has some cool toes--one is all orange and others are black and orange polka dot. I played cat paparaza and took pictures of her toes.)





Since Tarquin died, Mimsy's coming out of her shell a little more. She was always ok with me petting her and even picking her up, but on her terms and conditions. Even when she was still living the feral life outside, she'd come up to me (see photo, left, of her sniffing my hand). But she seems to seek out the attention more. I'm sure part of it is because she's missing Tarquin. They always spent the day, cuddled together and sleeping at the foot of the bed.

Mimsy outside at Wright St, top and bottom

Tarquin would always walk up to the head of the bed and stare at me in the morning. He'd usually offer up a little nose sniff, too. And if he was especially hungry, he'd tap my face. Jabbing was more like it. "Time to wake up, hoomin."

Now Mimsy is doing the same thing--luckily no jabbing though. I noticed she was rubbing her head against the bed post, so she's obviously marking it as her territory now.

For two nights after Tarquin died, she hopped up in the recliner with me at night. She didn't do any real lap sitting, but she did a lot of kneading and purring. We used to call the happy paws/kneading routine "starfish paws." She was certainly doing the starfish thing.

Mimsy misses her buddy, Tarquin

Then last night, after at least a month of showing no interest in sitting with me, she jumped up again. This time she actually settled down on my legs and sat there for quite a long time.

Maybe Tarquin had informed her that I was his and to stay away. Or maybe now she's just assuming the dominant cat position. She is definitely telling Rory who's boss! He licks her head all nice-like and his reward? She slaps him across the face.

Patience pays off. It's only been 10 years she's had to evaluate me and decide that I'm not going to hurt her.