Stormy

     Stormy is five years old. She is a gray-striped tabby of the American domestic short-hair variety. She is a big cat, and I’ve always known that she would be a big cat by the size of her paws when she was a kitten. When Stormy wants to be affectionate, she tends to be over-affectionate. I think a lot of this has to do with her size. She weighs at least 12 pounds (as of November 2012). I usually put a thick towel on my lap when Stormy comes to visit so she doesn’t hurt me when she walks on me. With a towel on my lap, Stormy is more apt to lie down and stay awhile, too. She cannot, however, just lie down and sleep. She needs to lick, either herself or me.

     Stormy is a licker. Since she was a kitten, she has been the cat who licks the most. She licks herself (like a typical cat does), she licks the other cats (if they let her), and she licks me. Usually, Moky and Gypsy allow Stormy to lick them when they are sleepy. If they allowed her to lick them when they were awake, Stormy would be one happy cat. When Stormy lies on my lap, she tries to lick my arms and fingers. I usually place my left arm in front of her so she can lick it. She will lick for a long time. I often have to move my arm away from Stormy, especially when harmless licking becomes hurtful. 

     Stormy is a hugger. Okay, she doesn’t exactly initiate the hugging, but she does stand still on my lap while I hug her. Stormy is also the cat who knows when I’m upset or sad. When I am sad (as when Bella died and then after my mom died), Stormy comes to me and nudges me and then lies down on my lap and looks up at me. This is not to be mistaken for those times she lies on my lap to lick my arms or fingers. Occasionally, when I’m sad, I prefer to lie down and sleep. Stormy will lie on the bed until my nap is over; then, she stays close by until the sadness passes. This is her loving side. Her mothering instincts kick in not only when I’m sad; Stormy’s mommy-side comes out when she wants to lick Moky or Gypsy. Unfortunately, for Stormy, the other two don’t want her to pay that kind of attention to them. 

      Stormy loves cat carriers. Most cats (like Moky and Gypsy) hate cat carriers. Stormy loves cat carriers because that’s where she spent most of her kittenhood. When she was just a month or so old, she lived in the small blue carrier in my bedroom, and it was equipped with a bed, a litter box, and bowls of water and dry food. For a kitten, it was the perfect-sized home. She graduated to a larger carrier as she grew bigger. Eventually, I bought a large crate (36” x 36”) to accommodate her. At night, she could not roam free in my home because she was quite active, so she had to live in the crate so I could sleep at night. Throughout Stormy’s childhood, I often told her former owner (a friend and colleague of mine) that she named Stormy appropriately because Stormy was a storm of activity while she was growing up.

Stormy trying to climb onto ironing board

     Stormy loves thunderstorms. See, I told you she was aptly named. When storms are approaching, Gypsy and Moky hide. Stormy stays put, usually on her hammock-scratcher. When a storm arrives and the other two cats have safely hidden themselves from the boisterous thunder and striking lightning, Stormy is at the window, looking out at the storm. The only time I’ve seen her run and hide is when the thunder booms immediately after the lightning strikes. That’s understandable since that volume of sound even makes me jump. For any animal, a sudden, loud sound is frightening. 

     Stormy is the anti-social cat of the family. She keeps to herself throughout the day and night. She will visit me when she feels like it. This is the behavior most people talk about when they say that cats are anti-social. Not all cats display this behavior. When I have visitors, Stormy runs upstairs and hides until she thinks it’s safe to come out. Sometimes, her curiosity gets the best of her, and she stops at the top of the stairs to see who is at the door. Even if the visitor is well-known by the cats, Stormy will not make an appearance for several minutes.

     Stormy hates change. Actually, most cats don’t care for change; they prefer a normal routine (much like humans do). When I moved in early 2011, Stormy was traumatized by the moving process. She hid or tried to hide from me. The problem with hiding is that Stormy is too big to do it. She tried to hide behind a chair, in a corner of the room. I merely had to stoop down and look into the corner to see her. Wide-eyed (the look of fear or shock in most cats), Stormy stared back. To calm her down, I left her alone. That way she would know that all was well because no one was in the room, and no one was making any noise. One evening, after my helpers left for the day, I went about the routine of packing up my stuff, steering clear of the back room where Stormy was hiding because I wanted her to know that the coast was clear. 

     Stormy was particularly traumatized by the move. The night I moved the cats to the new place, I knew that the ride there would be stressful for my cats. While they were eating supper in the living room, I closed all the doors that led to all the rooms so that the only places my cats could wander to were the hallway, the living room, or the kitchen.

     Since Stormy loves cat carriers, I knew she would be okay when I put her in hers. However, I had to be stealthy in getting the other cats into the carriers. I put two carriers in the back room and made sure their top doors were open (and closed the back room’s door), and I put the other carrier in the living room (also with its top door open). At meal time, Stormy is always the cat who finishes eating first. As soon as she finished, I picked her up and put her in one of the carriers in the back room. She was content to stay in the carrier, which pleased me because I had three more cats that had to be contained for the ride to the new place. With the other cats, I have to pick them up and walk backwards into a darkened room to put them peacefully into a cat carrier (especially true for Moky).

     The cats’ ride over to the new place was musical. Stormy and Bella just remained quiet while Moky and Gypsy sang to me while I drove. When I put all the carriers in the hallway of the new place, I opened the carriers' doors. Bella and Moky immediately emerged from the carriers and set out to explore their new digs. Gypsy stayed in the carrier for a few minutes longer before she warily walked out. She, too, started exploring her new surroundings. 

     Stormy would not come out of her carrier. She did her best to stay plastered to the back wall of the carrier, and nothing I did could coax her from her “security blanket.” I moved the Stormy-filled carrier to the living room in order to help her deal with the process. She stayed in the carrier for several hours. When I went upstairs to sleep, she was still in her carrier. The next morning, when I went downstairs, I saw an empty  carrier. Stormy found a new hiding place behind my computer desk. Since the move more than two years ago, Stormy always runs upstairs whenever she hears the doorbell or someone knocking on the front door. 

     One day, last week, a ticket-selling teenager rang the doorbell and rapped on the door several times. Stormy ran and hid. Afterwards, while Gypsy and Moky were eating their breakfast, I called for Stormy, but she didn’t come to eat. I thought she was upstairs, so I searched there for her. When I couldn’t find her, panic crept in, and I thought maybe she got out while I was talking to the teen. I realized, then, that she was hiding somewhere in the apartment because I would’ve noticed if she tried to get out through the front door. I calmed down, yet I still called out her name in hopes she would appear soon. About 20 minutes later, I heard a rustling noise behind me while I was working at the computer. When I got up and walked toward the sound, Stormy poked her head out from under the end table. I was ecstatic to see her, and I picked her up and hugged her. By the look on her face, she was probably wondering what the big deal was.

      Stormy is the linebacker of the family. By that, I mean she plays rougher than Moky or Gypsy. I’m not sure if she knows how strong she is when she plays. I often worry about Moky and Gypsy when Stormy is chasing them because I’m afraid she’ll catch up to them and hurt them. I should not be worried because all three cats end up safe and sound. When Gypsy tires of Stormy’s chasing, she hisses at Stormy. This is cat-code for “lay off!” Moky just whines and occasionally growls at Stormy. Sometimes, the roles are reversed, and Moky or Gypsy chase Stormy. All is well on the home front.

     Stormy is cautious with certain objects. Her least favorite object is a portable fan that I have. The fan measures about 3 - 4 inches high and resembles a person. It’s battery operated, and the propeller blades are located on the “face” of the fan. The blades are made of foam (like the foam sheets at a crafts store). When I turn on the fan and Stormy is nearby, she will stare at it and somewhat back away from it. I always hold the fan so that the blades face me. Then, she slowly, cautiously approaches it and tries to bat at it with her paw. I’m usually holding the portable fan, so I feel the brunt of her paw-slaps. Stormy has a paw-slap that’s so powerful she has turned off the fan by swiping at the power switch on the back of it. 

     Stormy is wary when it comes to things she’s never seen before, but that can probably be said about most cats. The other night, I pulled out my ancient Sunbeam Automatic Egg Cooker (circa 1970s) to hard-boil two eggs. Once the machine starts cooking, steam rises out of two slots on the lid. Stormy was peacefully lying on her hammock-scratcher when she heard the steam pouring out of the cooker. She rose from her “bed” and jumped up on the counter to see what was going on. [Is anyone else thinking about the Christmas poem, T’was the Night Before Christmas?] When she saw the steaming cooker, she sat down on the counter across from it and stared at the steaming entity. I told her to stay away from it. Because she didn’t know what the thing was, she steered clear of it. Had she approached it, I can just imagine her batting the machine like she used to do with the little fan.

Sunbeam Automatic Egg Cooker

      Stormy loves her hammock-scratcher. She loves it so much that I’ve had to get her a new one after less than a year’s use of the old one. I don’t have a problem with her scratching other objects (like I do with Moky) or scratching the carpeting upstairs (like I do with Gypsy) because Stormy scratches only the objects made for that purpose. I keep a curved scratcher on the bottom stair, and when we walk downstairs for breakfast (not necessarily in the morning, mind you), Stormy stops at that scratcher and scratches it! Yay!!! I wish the other two cats would do the same. 

     Stormy is very much loved. She brightens my day. Stormy is friendly in her own way;  she just needs a little more time to adjust to her surroundings. 

[original post: 08/02/13; revised 05/03/14]