“The thing I love best about you is that you’re so unpredictable.”
Our baby and our cat are best friends. This is an unexpected development. When the big boy was a baby, he and the cat had an awkward relationship. The thing they had most in common was a wariness of the other. They might have been reality TV show contestants.
Since the big boy was the first baby, it is possible that the cat resented the way he stole the limelight. In a childless house, the cat was a pet. After baby-number-one arrived, the cat became more like a mobile piece of décor. The squeaky, helpless, crying wheel got the grease, and the cat got to make adjustments in his expectations. This may have soured the cat on the idea of human babies. The baby’s herky-jerky, heavy-handed flailing may have played a role as well. We’ll never know for sure.
Baby-number-one and the cat had their rare, sweet moments, but these were mostly when the baby was very drowsy or already asleep. The two of them were never best buddies.
Baby-number-two has taught the cat a lesson in demographics. Mr. Cat is outnumbered now, and since he hasn’t had all of his man parts in more than a decade, and there are no eligible bachelorette cats in our house anyway, he’s not likely to roll back the tide. Facts are facts.
To his credit, the cat has adjusted to his changing world. He has reached out to this new baby in an effort to mend fences with baby-kind. He flops down beside the baby and allows himself to be petted, if petted means having little fistfuls of his fur grabbed, his tail tugged, and his ears pulled. All of this is a form of attention, and the cat has come to appreciate that.
The cat also understands that this baby means no harm. He has a lighter touch than his brother did and that probably helps. If his grabby style of petting hurt the cat, the cat likely would not keep eagerly subjecting himself to it. But it doesn’t hurt, or at least it hurts better than nothing.
Their relationship is not all sunshine and lollipops, though. They’ve had their spats. One time the baby must have tugged upon the wrong piece of cat, because the cat had to yell at him. “Stop it! That hurts!” the cat said. That’s what I think he said, anyway. It was in cat language. It sounded mostly like “Rrrairrrlw!” but I think my translation is pretty close.
The baby cried after the cat scolded him. His feelings were hurt. He was only trying to play with his friend.
Another time I warned the baby in a stern voice not to tug the cat’s leg like he was. I was hoping to avoid another cat-yelling incident. I did avoid it, but the baby cried at my warning anyway. He’s very sensitive about his cat.
It’s tough when all you want to do is play with your best buddy and all it does is get you yelled at.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
We used to have a Siamese cat when our oldest was a baby. That cat would watch after the baby. Whenever I put her down, the cat would take his spot in her door jam and stay there until it was time for the baby to get up.
Another great post, Scott!
Wow, I’ve never heard of a Siamese guard dog before.
We have three dogs and a toddler. I feel sorry for the dogs. They take a shitload of abuse from that baby, and they have never, ever once dreamed of even growling at the kid. They just look at me with eyes that plead “Don’t have another one. Please.”
Sorry kids. Too late.
At least they’ll know what to expect. Poor puppies!
If that cat has refrained from swatting, he’s one of the greats. He’s also figured out that he needs to align himself with upcoming generations to ensure the continuation of Friskies.
It really is all about the next meal, isn’t it?
This is great. Reminds me of a cat we had when our youngest was born. Watson couldn’t stand the older boys, but the baby and he had a connection from the moment he was born. Kindred spirits or something. The bedtime routine was not complete until the baby spent at least 20 min petting the cat. It was love, for both.
I think cats believe the first one is only temporary. But once the second one comes along, they know it’s permanent so they try to make the best of it.
Our first pregnancy was twins, so he was outnumbered from the beginning. But the twins Ganged up on him, stalking him together. He was much more at ease with only 1 boy chasing after him!
Ahhh. I can better appreciate his dilemma now.
When my sister was about four she put colored hair pins in the dog’s fur. He could not have been happy, but he lets her do it anyway. Dogs are like that. I walked in and found them on the floor of her room . The dog might not have been so calm, if I had got a mirror and showed him how silly he looked.
If you had only taken the time to play fetch with him, he wouldn’t have had to stoop so low for a little attention.