…Eushu and Seishi, last night, playing chase. Seishi is not a big cat, but when he stretches out, he’s got length.

I’ve worried about Sei: Shu just won’t let him alone: it’s constant wrestling and chasing, and I mean dawn past dusk, interrupted by an afternoon nap.

Last night he stood up to see what was on the table. And Shu rushed him for a full-body tackle.

Sei continued to look at the objects on the table, neatly and gently put his big Scottish Fold paw on Shu’s head and flattened him, without violence. Never turned his head—just pushed Shu down until he had seen what he wanted to see. That is not a harried cat. That is Big Brother taking a personal moment. And that’s how calm and gentle Sei is, despite a kitten whose voice hasn’t changed yet.

Did I explain how I found Sei? I knew Ysabel was being driven to the brink, and her health was suffering. We needed a buffer. I thought I wanted a kitten of my own, and I knew the breed that most tempted me: Scottish Fold; and there is a fairly local cattery. But a look around their site told me they were way  too pricey, even for the straight-ears, which go for much less than the foldeds.

So I took a look in the Retired Cats, not really wanting to take on a late-middle-aged cat set in her ways, and her medical problems, but deeply concerned for Ysabel, and thinking maybe a Retired might be social and quiet.

And of all things—I see a surplus one year old straight-eared male with the sweetest face. I used to run a cattery, my own, a dismal venture. I know the situation of the spare male. If a male doesn’t sell as a kitten, you’ve got a problem that is only going to cost you money: males, however sweet, become a disturbance and a risk of multiple vet bills on another cat and him. This fellow had already been neutered (the cattery’s admission that they’re giving up selling him to another breeder, and he has a slight visual defect you have to look at a while to detect, but bet that his breeder knows it, and that’s another problem for a buyer to whom that matters.) He’d had all his shots, to boot; that’s a big deal to factor into the asking price.  He’s a year old and healthy, ergo no chance of getting a cat who’ll manifest the arthritis that troubles the breed, so the story wasn’t that there’d been a mis-breeding in the cattery (folded to folded will turn up that recessive gene). So he has a slightly lazy but perfectly fine eye [if you know me, I have the same problem]—no problem to me.  All vet bills that come with a new kitten already handled, so no further expense; a healthy cat, good coat, great disposition—I took a deep breath, considered Ysabel’s desperate situation, and decided, well, this can be my birthday present and my Christmas: I couldn’t ask for a better—IF—he’s as described. I go over there, and I’ll confess I was nervous. I’d asked to come pick him up immediately. No deposit had gone down, ergo no money at risk if I balk; but—was he going to be a runny-eyed, sickly fellow far older than that photo and psycho to boot? I wouldn’t know until I saw him. And I was fully prepared to walk away if I had to.

One look, and he was gorgeous. Terrified by the sight of strangers, but I took him on my lap, and he began to settle, even to try to purr. And he was more than his pictures. Next worry: were there last-moment hidden charges? (another kind of nasty trick you can get into.)No. The price was firm. The breeder was one of the good ones, and he was coming home with me.

We had Eushu with us in the car. Shu was loose, and knows the rules in a car, but there was some hissing. Seishi stayed in his cage for the whole trip, for safety’s sake. And my next worry was—have I done the right thing: I’m trying to help Ysabel by taking the heat off her. But what if they meet and she goes into an emotional nosedive?

I took special care that that didn’t happen, no face-to-face, not until she’d  had a chance to think about it. A little hiss-spit. But Eushu wanted to play. Sei wanted to hide. Not unusual. By morning, Eushu was chasing him out of his hiding places, and Ysabel was only moderately annoyed—and best of all, was relaxing around Eushu, now that he’d acquired another target.

Now—would Sei be bullied by this halfgrown terror? We were worried about that. Well, that paw on the head said it all. Sei’s patient, but he’s not getting pushed; Ysabel’s relaxing in her own house and recovered from her illness; and I think we’re a household.