Milca has two cats, both black, except for the dirt that they collect on their romps outside. Mona, or Monkey, is a female who is very nice and cuddly. She will allow you to pet her, but doesn’t want any of that crazy petting, or any petting past the shoulder blades for the most part. When petting her you need to make sure you don’t cross any boundaries, and you’ll be fine. Mona will curl up in my lap when I am playing the GameCube. I assure Milca that this is because she likes to watch, but I don’t think Milca is buying it. At any rate, she’s a sweet little kitty, and she gets my love.
Croce (that’s pronounced crow-chee), is not such a nice kitty. He is Mona’s son from her second litter. Croce had a brother, Charlie, who died almost 2 years ago. I think that this may have made him a bit crazy, or at the very least depressed. To say that he doesn’t like me wouldn’t be just an understatement, but it would also limit the magnitude of his discontent. See, he doesn’t like you either. Or your mom. Or your brother. The only person that he gives any amount of positive attention to is Milca, with no exception. Since he and I share a living space, and that space is fairly limited, we are constantly in conflict.
If I am moving in his general direction, for whatever reason that might be, he will do his best to go to the opposite end of the room. If you are moving towards him when he is already in a corner of the room, he will do his best do run past you. This is a standard encounter:
I enter the room to check the messages on the phone. I walk past the couch to the chest where we have our phone and a lamp. Near the chest is the bed, where Croce is curled up. Upon seeing me, Croce flies between the lamp and the wall, flying on to the couch. After I have checked the messages and questioned Croce’s sanity, I walk back towards the door to leave the room. Almost as an answer to my previous question, Croce runs away from me. The only problem is that away from me is towards the door that I am heading for. He backs himself into this convenient corner he has made for himself, and proceeds to meow at me. Then he groans at me. Not growls, groans. When he sees that I’m heading towards him (the door, but we’ve already established his point of view on this), he jumps back on to the couch and runs back to the bed, where he might have easily remained the whole time without incident.
I have tried to appease him with treats, tuna, you name it. This cat won’t have any of it. Well, he’ll eat the tuna or the treats, but he’ll still hate me. Once in a while he will bat at me, which has made for some nice little scars, but he hasn’t done that as much lately. He does groan more, though.