Affection over aggression

IN THIS SEASON of illness and injury in the mini-zoo, not all problems are solved with medication.

Amongst the cats, Wild Child Manohra seems to have recovered from her infection – and the two weeks she spent at the vet’s gave the herd at home time to recover from her aggressiveness.

Before she comes home, I worry, not knowing if she’s been so aggressive because she was claiming territory or because she was in so much pain and discomfort from the infection.

The vet reports that she’s been the cute and friendly cat they remember when she was rescued a year ago, then a three-week-old kitten caught in a rat trap baited with glue.

As soon as Manohra returns, she jumps out of her carrier and runs over to a food bowl and begins eating as fast as she can. Then she checks out every litter tray, smelling it, pushing the sand around before running to the next.

Then she runs into my bedroom, claiming my pillow, where she promptly falls into a deep sleep.

The other cats, so tense while she’s been running around, relax. Only Wan-Wan, my little poodle, looks depressed. Manohra’s her favourite cat, but Manohra has ignored her completely, without even a nose-touch in greeting.

After a week or so, Manohra continues to urinate properly, in the litter trays and not on tables and chairs (what a relief!). To me, she’s affectionate and playful, happy to be petted and hugged, not biting me, even once.

Her relationship with Yoyo is an entirely different matter. The two cats simply don’t like one another. The boy doesn’t really want to fight her, but the Wild Child searches for him, ready to fight him if he just looks at her.

At first, it’s just a matter of bad language, which I can easily stop simply by stepping between the two so that they can’t see one another.

Then, one night, Bangkok is hit by an extremely strong storm. The lightning and thunder are unusually close and loud.

Some of the gang simply sleep through the noise. Others run under a chair or sofa. Yoyo hates the rain. I take him up to his bedroom, where he has his own hiding places, but he still doesn’t seem to feel safe. He looks at me as if to say: “Turn off the rain. Now!”

Manohra is absolutely terrified. Panicked, she runs back and forth, refusing to let me or even Wan comfort her.

When the lightning and thunder stop and the rain becomes a gentle shower, she comes down from the top floor, but I can see by her face that she’s still shaken.

She passes Yoyo’s bedroom and then stops when she sees him. Upset by the storm, she handles her stress the only way she knows how. With a yell, she throws herself against the screen door of Yoyo’s bedroom.

“War!” I think she screams.

Yoyo, protected by the door, screams back. I can’t silence either one, until I go into his bedroom and put him on my lap.

As soon as Manohra sees me petting and talking to him, she runs away. She understands (I think) that Yoyo is under my protection.

The next day, the two cats have another confrontation, easily ended the minute Manohra sees me approach.

Of course, the problem still isn’t solved completely. Manohra needs lots more attention than I’ve been giving her, lots more play-time, lots more lap time, all away from Yoyo.

The Wild Child is a sensitive and loving creature, as long as her environment remains calm and balanced.