Emily’s been at the shelter for awhile, but I only met her recently. She's upstairs in 7, one of the quieter corridors. The condo card describes her as quite shy, and she has a roommate who is also shy.It’s a bad match. The roommie is a skittish barely grown 11 month old, who darts away then slinks out purring and rubbing. She’s adorable in the way of the young. Cute but kind of insubstantial.
Emily is 10 years old, firmly into middle age in cat years. She’s a large long hair, while with splotches of orange tabby, and large striking green eyes. She stares balefully from her perch on the climbing structure while I interact with the kitten.
I approach her slowly. She holds my gaze and lets me offer a hand to be sniffed. I can tell she’s smart. Her dignity very much with her, she allows herself to be stroked and her chin gently scratched. After awhile she decides I’m ok, and settles in for some serious petting.
But the kitten climbs her way up, anxious for attention. I reach one hand down to pet her, keeping my focus on Emily. It’s cool till Emily realizes what’s going on, and her ears flatten and she swipes a paw down angrily to send the interloper scuttling away.
Next time I visit, Emily has the place to herself. She warms up quickly, hopping down for pets and even playing for a couple moments. She puts her large head in my hand and stares at me. Get me out of here, don’t you understand? I feel bad leaving her.
Across the aisle visiting the next cat, I can see her watching me. Not pleased.
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