Copy Cats

Just the other day, my dad and I were talking about that cat down in the Louisiana bayou who fights alligators.  Apparently he gets very territorial about his part of the "beach" and smacks ruthlessly at any alligator who tries to invade his turf.  (I am not making this up.  Look it up if you don't believe me--the cat's name is Mugsy.)  My dad made the comment that surely the other dozen or so cats who live with this fearless ninja-cat would also start gator-fighting, after watching him successfully do it.  I smugly scoffed at the notion.  Dad...(eye roll here)...cats don't really copy one another.  It's just a figure of speech, like "crazy like a fox," or "military intelligence."  Cats all have their own personalities, and they don't relish being exactly like another cat.

Ah, the Universe really enjoys playing these little tricks.  I came home a few hours later on a chilly Saturday afternoon to find a lump under the covers.  Which wouldn't have been a big deal under normal circumstances, except for Otto and Wanda (the ones who usually play the parts of "lump" in the bed) were sleeping together over the covers, just a few feet away.  Reggie wasn't even on the bed--I'd seen him earlier when I came in the house.  I cautiously approached the lump (was it that dratted Chupacabra again?!?), but the lump got scared and bolted for the door.  It was Elroy.  Who never hangs out under the covers, except for right then when he did, just like his best friend and reluctant hero, Otto.  So I guess there are copy cats after all.  I stand humbly corrected.

Elroy has actually been having a lot of fun in bed lately.  Like the other day, when he discovered he could head-bunt both me AND Otto successively, over and over.  He seemed like he couldn't believe his good fortune!  He's been enjoying lots of snuggle time with Wanda too, lolling about on her as though she were his own special pillow.  Luckily, Wanda doesn't seem to mind.

It's funny, seven years ago, we would never have dreamed that this skittish little guy would ever want to be in our house with us, much less rolling and purring contentedly on our bed.  All you have to do is look at him to know what he's thinking:  Yeah...I've got it good here.  He's not the only one who feels that way...