Lest I, as a mere human sort of creature, forget my place in the universal power structure, a few days communing with my sister’s four-legged family members swiftly reminds me that I can have all of the ingenious ideas and deeply meaningful thoughts I want in my pretty little head and they won’t change the reality of how the day will go for, and with, Ruffian, Mercer and Tristan.
Ruffian is well aware that all of creation was designed for the sole purpose of serving her and meeting her Needs (often mistaken by others as wants or Whining Points) and keeping out of her way in general so as not to disturb her beauty sleep. Being a large and well-rounded woman-cat, she prefers not to exhaust herself with any sort of excessive or unseemly activity if it does not culminate in being fed something. If there’s really no thrilling edible stuff involved, her time is far better spent in her semi-comatose repose, and most pleasantly of all, that in a place which is capable of creating maximum inconvenience for anyone who might wish to go through the door she is blocking, sit on the chair or window seat she is luxuriating upon, or sidle down the hallway she has carpeted with her soft and well-cushioned form. Yes, I suppose you are all by now sensing a bit of similarity between her and yours truly, perhaps?
Mercer, her fellow shelter adoptee, dresses formally for all occasions, preferring the classic tradition of the black suit and white button down shirt because he is much too dignified to be associated with frivolity and self-indulgence like his ‘sister’s’. If he should happen to take an interest in a cat toy and even deign to frolic after it a bit, it’s best for all others in the room to pretend not to have noticed, lest he take umbrage over this imagining of his being anything other than the most sober and staid member of the household. Despite his being strictly aware of his handsome panache and savoir-faire, he generally dislikes having his portrait taken, a trait I have assumed has to do with his being in the Witness Protection program and not wishing to be ‘outed’ inadvertently. I do suspect he might have some Scottish heritage because, although he doesn’t speak about this past of his, he still wears a fuzzy white sporran that swings jauntily under his belly when he’s patrolling his fiefdom.
While Ruffian and Mercer rule the house, Tristan lives exclusively outdoors. This arrangement seems to suit all three to the degree that each is able to maintain his or her sense of being the center of the solar system and ruler of all he/she surveys, since the two cats pay attention to each other primarily when needing someone to compete with over food, beat up or otherwise annoy.
Tristan was rescued from a neglectful owner after the people of the household split up and Tristan’s longtime canine companion died. He’s now twelve years old and, age and arthritis notwithstanding, maintains a cheerful demeanor, particularly if there happens to be a massive ham sandwich anywhere in sniffing distance. And he does have prodigious sniff powers, undiminished by the years. So when he goes for his three walks a day, nary a leaf or blade of grass goes unexamined, yet he keeps up a steady pace and chooses which of his favorite routes is preferable for the moment’s expedition, tugging all of his people-pack insistently if gently until we all acquiesce, recognize his prerogative, and follow orders. I’m just glad I smell acceptable to him, never mind whether any of our human companions find me tolerable or not.
After all, we are all just passing through, aren’t we? These three clearly know it’s all about the quality of the journey and that the destination will take care of itself soon enough. Say, toss me a treat, won’t you–I’m feeling a little peaked from not having napped enough yet today and can’t reach over that far.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Lovely description of Rufian’s day and Mercer’s attitude. As I read this I’m watching my son’s cat lounge/test out a new comforter. I think it’s gotten her seal of approval. Tristan is one lucky dog.
So glad the cat is keeping her world in order!
And yes, Tristan’s very lucky indeed–and so is the lucky lady who got to adopt him!
Hahaha.. I was just thinking that the comely Ruffian and I have such similar traits.. until you referred to yourself:) We have so much in common, Kathryn… Ahh.. a day of lounging about looking for food and padding down the hall with a lovely wide sway, that’s how I shall age, I believe! xoxo Smidge
ps I’ve missed you..
Missed you, too–much as I’m loving this holiday I’m looking forward to returning home to the nest and having a teensy bit of time for catching up with my friends. When I get there, let’s pad down the hall swishily together! 😀
xoxo
Kathryn
What a beautiful read of your sisters fur children,
🙂 Mandy xo
They are quite the family! Glad you enjoyed meeting them. 🙂
xoxo
Kathryn
What’s not to like about this post, my dear KI. The names alone of these fine feline & canine furries are entertainment enough but your, as usual, descriptive & unique use of precious words make this post utterly purrfect & grrrand…
Ruffian is, ironically, named in part for the famed fabulous racehorse, a creature she could hardly resemble less in her relentless pursuit of *non*-action. Mercer was so named in commemoration of one of my sister’s youthful imaginary friends, and I think that’s a more accurate match: Mercer makes himself scarce so often, thanks to being so timid (or perhaps so neurotic) that he can almost pass for an imaginary cat. Tristan already had the name when he was rescued, but that too was supremely appropriate for the four-legged friend of an opera fan like my sister. Life does indeed follow interesting paths. 🙂
Having adopted both species, I totally agree with your description of your feline friends. In an adult cat’s view, we humans are a means to an end. We bring them food. If cats mutate and get an opposable digit in the process, they’ll have no need for us whatsoever.
Tristan, on the other, seems to have landed in a great space, just what he needed and deserved. It’s a shame that so many others aren’t nearly so lucky.
Would that we could rescue all of them in need! Our whole family feels lucky to have gotten Tristan in our midst–he’s a great dog and a joy to be around!
Wonderful post, Kathryn! Wonderful photographs and descriptions of the various pet personalities! I have to disagree with the commenter above who ‘suggests’ that ‘humans are just a means to an end’ to a cat. My kitties are so affectionate and involved in our lives, and would take a kiss and a cuddle any day over food. If you truly engage with cats then they will engage with you! If you basically ignore them because you think they are self-sufficient then they will be self-sufficient…that’s what I love about them…their independence and resourcefulness. My life is full of love because of my cats (and my mom, of course!).
As always, I love how you write…it is so witty and layered and interesting!
Many thanks, my dearest. Much as it’s simply impracticable for us to have pets with our life arranged the way it is, I find I miss my sister’s furry ‘kids’, especially Tristan who, as I know, might well not be able to stay alive until our next visit. So glad we got to have some time enjoying them.