A cat person who used to be a dog person

I have a lot of friends who are dedicated “dog people.” Some of them really think that all cats are the same! Of course we cat people know that this is not true. We always had a pug dog when I was growing up, so I could easily be a dog person, but living alone, a cat is more practical.

Here is a summary of my two cats – you might want to do this for fun with your pets.

My situation: previous cat, Harley (H), current cat, Cleopatra (C).

Species and gender: H: Neutered male American shorthair cat (Tan and white)
C: Neutered female American shorthair cat (Tortie)

Official name: H: Harley Honerkamp Pockrose
C: Cleopatra Pelley Pockrose

Source of name: H: Former owners, the Honerkamps, named him Harley.
C: Former caretaker, Linda Pelley, named her Cleo. I lengthened to Cleopatra due to her black eyeliner.

Nicknames: H: Harley D. Boy ; The Boy ; Hairy Boy ; Squeaky Beast ; Mr.
Hiss
C: Ms. Cleo ; I'm sure she'll get more the longer I have her


How I got them: H: Belonged to neighbors who were moving away and I asked if I
could have him. He was 3 years old.
C: Was a stray, sleeping on a friend's porch. She already had 3 pets
and was trying to find a home for Cleo, who was about 8
months old.

First meeting: H: In my yard while gardening. I started chatting with him, and
within a month or so he would wait on my porch almost every
day for me to come home from work.
C: Was following my friend Linda when she was walking her dog
and started making eyes at me while we were chatting. I gave
her a "trial visit" over a holiday weekend, and when she didn't
spray at all where my old cat had, she became a permanent
resident.

Best trick: H: Would almost always come when I would whistle, even from
across the street or down in the basement. His former owners
had 3 dogs, so he probably learned it from them.
C: She retrieves cloth mice, often 20 times in a row if I'll keep
throwing it.

Favorite dry food: H: Friskies Dental Diet.
C: Friskies Dental Diet. I don't know what they put in there, but if I
would mix two kinds, which I generally do, both would pick out
the pieces of Dental Diet and eat them first.

Interest in people food: H: Very high. He was quite malnourished when I took him in, so I was very generous with tastes of my food, and he developed a liking for things like refried beans, spaghetti, and chicken livers.
C: Moderate. If it smells like fish or meat, she's interested, but she doesn't beg like The Boy did.

Favorite people food: H: Those rectangular fruitcakes they sell at the bank. I left a piece unattended once, and 15 minutes later I came back to a plate with just 2 green cherries on it, and he was licking his whiskers in a very satisfied manner. After that he's sit and stare me down til I shared if I had any. He also loved toast crust and crumbs.
C: Sardines. If I don't want her little nose right in my face while eating, she has to be locked in the kitchen while I eat sardines. I gave her some toast crumbs, but she sniffed one up her nose and had a sneezing fit, so she doesn't approach a plate with crumbs on it.

Interest in cooking: H: Very high if meat was involved. He'd sit at my feet and beg non-stop while I cut up meat or chicken, and of course he always got a few bits. It never made him sick, so I figured it was OK, especially since he supplemented his diet with insects anyway.
C: Fairly low. It still surprises me not to have a begging cat as soon as I unwrap meat. If it's fish, she'll come running, but she doesn't seem to care much about raw meat.

Interest in catnip: H: Very high until about age 15. I put it in an old stocking and he would hold it up to his nose and sniff it, and it was just about impossible to take it away from him. Eventually he'd more or less pass out with his head resting on it, and then I'd take it away.
C: Moderate. She'll sniff it and bat it around for a while, but she loses interest fairly quickly.

Habitat: H: Totally a yard cat when I got him, so I continued to let him go out until he was 10 and developed a skin problem. While he lived to be 18, he never quite got over being made into a house cat and would lament quite loudly about it.
C: Totally a house cat, and generally fairly content about it, although I have to make sure she's not near the door when I open it.

Conversation: H. His meow was always more of a squeak. He liked for us to "meow" back and forth. Various situations required hissing, including ear cleaning, nail clipping, and seeing other cats through the window. Once I started keeping him in, he would lament his sorry state just about daily by howling in the basement stairwell.
C. She has a more standard meow, but so far doesn't meow back to me. When the alarm goes off, she starts meowing and generally keeps it up until I come downstairs. She doesn't hiss or howl (so far). She does chatter a lot at the window if there are birds outside, which Harley never did.

Cuteness factor: H: Moderate. Harley was a scrappy street boy who would only sit in my lap if he could be facing the door. He was very particular about being petted, and his feet and tummy areas were off-limits.
C: Very high, which is good, because she misbehaves quite a bit! She knows she's cute and makes eyes at people. She is very much a lap kitty and has learned to fit herself over on one side so I can use my laptop without having to remove her.

Worst habits: H. Spraying. I found this out within a couple of days, but he was my buddy, so for 10 years the bottom 2 feet of all my furniture was wrapped in foil, and I bought that anti-stink stuff in a gallon jug. Fortunately most of my furniture is on the wood floor and not on carpeting, or probably he would have had to go. He stopped spraying when he was about 15. His other bad habit was scratching - usually guests who didn't realize that petting his cute little white feet was not allowed.
C: Maniacal flying leaps resulting in broken glassware. I've had to put my rather extensive glassware collection away or on lower shelves. Crashing right into a wall doesn't deter her from trying the same move again. She also likes to run around on top of the basement air ducts, which can be heard throughout the house and is rather disconcerting in the middle of the night.

Fraidycattiness: H: For all his street sense, Harley was quite a fraidy boy. Thunder was the biggy, and he'd hide way under the guest bed as soon as he heard any. If I'd try to hold him in my lap and reassure him, he'd whine until I let him go hide. He also ran straight to the basement as soon as I turned on the vacuum cleaner, and eventually as soon as he even SAW the vacuum cleaner.
C: Pretty fearless so far. Thunder and lightning, no problem. I actually have to lock her in the other room to prevent vacuuming up her tail because she likes to chase the vacuum cleaner around the room.

Final days: H: At age 17 he started to have renal failure, and lost about half of his 14 lb. in a year. I took him in at age 18 – by then he couldn’t walk the steps and could barely get into the litter box. When he lost interest in sardines, I knew it was time, and he had one hiss left in him for the technician, which was a relief, actually – still the Old Boy to the end.
C: Hard to imagine that if she lives to 18 like the Old Boy, I will be 68 at that time. So I’m more concerned about MY age than about hers.