Duffer @6 Months

Kandivli cat with personality

Settled (Photo courtesy: Aditya Rao)
He gets comfortable anywhere, observed Aditya a few days ago. Truly, he needs little space. He climbs onto our backs when we bend to pick up something off the floor. He perches on the small of a waist when one is lying sideways or just completely against the back. He loves the little space that the top of the cushioning creates with the back of  the bamboo easy chair. He often climbs onto the balcony parapet and crouches on the inner corner.

He loves warm places, the top of the microwave, right next to the naked halogen bulb and underneath the blanket being his favourites. He is himself always a little warm, like a satin quilt with a hot water bottle inside in preparation for bedtime in the coldest month. Like a dash of sunlight one morning after days of thick clouds and rain. That is Duffer: my cat of close to six months now, my constant companion, the only subject of my unconditional adoration.

Closer to camera: Duffer, farther: Raise (right)
Yes, he is adorable. He is gentle, he is trusting and he is extremely clean. Grooming is more part of Duffer’s psyche than a habit. And not only does he groom himself to the elegant perfection that his other name stands for (Jeeves, rightly christened in retrospect), but also anyone who seems imperfect in his eyes. I have often maintained, to his mates, Raise (also Bertie), and Emma, he is a one-tom spa (not much of a man yet)!

A through and through attention seeker, Duffer’s feline instincts are fairly intact, in that, he still ventures to get his own food – no matter where from. Our plates, the kitchen slab, the refrigerator and window sills and grills being his chief climbing haunts. We have probably raised our voices and even shooed him away, but the man persists. His resolve has yet to be broken, and each day, when I return, I see him jump off one or the other of his high resting places and sprint up to me at the door. He is not a dog. He is not a donkey. He is not a bird. He isn’t domestic. Yet he doesn’t merely tolerate the humans around him, he welcomes them warmly. He fools around. With them, as well as food. He’s an instalment eater, but will wipe off every last remnant of fish we offer him every once in a blue moon, at a go!

He has come to be my reason for getting home. He has come to be never late for at least that one date every evening. He loves bags. Chewing them up, or getting right into them. For that matter, he loves narrow places. He’ll even get into the lamp shade at times!

I take care of him. Only just. He takes care of me. In ways I could never imagine.

He’s the tall one. He’s the quiet one. He’s the friendly type. He’s the asking type. He is never angry. He is scared of crackers. Loves people most of the times. He seems a little high all the time. He teaches me something new every day. He makes us laugh every day.

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