I realize as I begin to write this story that I am putting myself in grave danger... the Bunny Cat is clearly not liking the idea of a story about her. Alas, I write with fear, but the story must be told.
As I talk to myself, typing out the title to this story, the Bunny Cat is watching me. Her eyes are squinted, as if to say to me, "How could you divulge my personal information in a story, for all the world to read?" Her ears are laid back, and she looks as though she might attack me at any given moment. I realize as I begin to write this story that I am putting myself in grave danger... the Bunny Cat is clearly not liking the idea of a story about her. Alas, I write with fear, but the story must be told.
Bunny Cat, as she is now known, came to live here in May, 1999, at the tender age of four weeks old. To say that looks are deceiving would be an understatement. She looked so pitiful and helpless, so tiny. We should have known something was amiss when we reached in to pick her up. She immediately went wild on us, and was nothing like the cute and cuddly soft Bunny Cat that she appeared to be. Still, we bundled her up and put her in a box, punched with air holes, for the short drive home.
We arrived home with the Bunny Cat, and turned her out of the box quickly. She immediately scampered away, to hide under a bed for a while. The children enticed her out at last, bribing her with food. And then they decided to name her... and so Summer had come to live with us.
If I were now to say that the next few months brought great joy having Summer around, I would be telling a great lie. On the contrary, Summer and the children fought like siblings. They began to call her their sister. I had to often remind them that I did not recall having any furry offspring. Too many times, due to Summer's small size, we would inadvertently step on her. That, needless to say, did nothing to improve relations with her.
As the months wore on, Summer's name changed. When any of us walked by her, or just walked in the house, very often out of nowhere, there would suddenly be a wild animal pouncing upon us, attacking us for just moving or walking through the house. This quickly became frustrating, as someone was always in pain with these attacks. Her name would have remained Summer, had it not been for the rabbit like moves she made. After having, as a child, many cats, I had never come across one that walked and pounced like a bunny. Her tail would fluff, she would hop and attack, so we started calling her Bunny Cat.
The Bunny Cat, as she is now known, has never been a lap cat. She cannot stand to be held, and only recently will let anyone really pet her without attacking the person for doing so. So imagine my amazement and surprise, when one day recently, after nearly two years living with us, came and actually sat in my lap in my recliner. I could have died! I was not sure if I would die of shock that she was in my lap, or die from being attacked by a wild Bunny Cat animal. She surprised me, and did not attack.
My children have mixed emotions about Bunny Cat. Some days they love her, others days they disown her. I remind them they said she was their sister, and that siblings often do not get along well.
It would seem that the cat understands what we say. We have taught her to roll over. Sometimes, we think this strange cat, who acts like a bunny, thinks she is a dog. We have three small dogs, and she has watched them often, perched on a window looking into the yard where they are. Since there are no other furry animals around, the dogs have been her only role models for what furry critters are supposed to do. Hence, we believe, the reason she acts like a dog also. I have had to refrain and keep myself from renaming the Bunny Cat again, to something like Rabdog Cat.
The cat has jumped down from her perch, where she was watching me with those squinting eyes. So I feel safe to write now about her one obsession... bathing. We have what could very well be the world's only cat with OCD, also known as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Anytime someone is lucky enough to actually pet this cat, to stroke her sleek silver furry body, she will immediately stop whatever she is doing, and bathe that particular spot. Pet her again there, and she will repeat the process.
She has even taken over our bed, claiming my pillow as her own. It is a dangerous thing to attempt to share the bed with her, as we value our toes and noses and other bodily areas.
As the days turn into years with our Bunny Cat, she is growing on us. Though she attacks for no reason, still, and often, we feel she is one of the family. Why we feel this, we do not know. Perhaps the fact that she is as different from other cats as we are different from other people, makes us understand her.
Either that, or we are too afraid of her to say otherwise.