Harry and Marmalade are brothers. At least, I'm pretty sure they're from the same litter - they have very similar markings. Both are tabby cats with the classic "M" marking on their foreheads. They're roughly the same size - I think Marmalade is a little bigger than Harry, but Harry is a pig and will eat both his and Marmalade's share of wet food if given the chance, so he will probably be bigger in the end.
They seem to have adjusted to their new, urban lives. We have a routine now. In the morning I play with them while I get ready for work, and when I leave at 7, they've usually installed themselves in the bookcase behind Great Cat Tales and the 1990 edition of The Writer's Handbook. When I come home, there are books on the floor and the row of shoes by the front door is in disarray, and the cat toys have been scattered around the living room, and they're back in the bookcase. I greet them, put out wet food for them (lately they've been enjoying Cowboy Cookout - they have Nutram kitten kibble available throughout the day).
And then they play for the rest of the evening, with maybe a 20 minute break for a nap. I'm serious. These cats play hard. It starts with stalking and pouncing games - toy mice, jingle balls, and balled-up tissue paper and receipts are favourite toys for this activity. I join in the fun, batting the paper with my hands and skidding the mice across the floor. Harry and Marmalade charge around, sliding on the parquet, running and leaping.
Then the wrestling games start. They love to wrestle and scrap with each other. I haven't timed their matches, but I'd say they could easily wrestle for half-an-hour without stopping. They roll around locked in a death grip, biting and pummelling each other with their back paws. Marmalade does this cute boxer's-feint thing, where he arches his back and runs at Harry sideways. If he could talk, he'd probably be saying, "You want a piece of me? Do ya? Huh?" Then Harry knocks him over.
Of the two of them, Harry is clearly the alpha cat. From the start, he has been more adventurous, more aggressive, more sure of himself. He was the first to come out of hiding. He was the brave one the first time I tempted them from under the bed with the promise of wet food, following me to the living room (in his own time) and tucking right in. When Marmalade started crying for him (they tend to call for each other when they've been separated), Harry trotted back into the bedroom and showed him how to find the wet food.
But when it comes to climbing and getting close to me, Marmalade is the leader. Marmalade will come to my chair in the evening and haul himself up with his claws to sit with me - even if it's only because he wants to be higher up than Harry, and not out of affection for me. He was also the first one to climb up into bed with me. Harry's not as good at climbing and jumping onto things - it's taken him awhile to figure out how to do it. Marmalade will even come up to me if I'm deep in a book and politely "mew" at me to pay attention to him. So he's the Mama's boy of the two.
When I go to bed, they come to bed with me, and wrestle themselves to sleep on the duvet. They sleep curled up next to me for most of the night, and usually start wrestling again at about 4 in the morning. They are not cuddly cats yet - I pick them up frequently and stroke them, I call them by name, scratch them under the chin, but they're too busy being kittens to stand for much human affection yet. But they do follow me from room to room, so there is a bond there, even if it's just because I'm the Food Lady.
Here's a photo of them wrestling in a corner of the dining room, next to their cat carrier (and yes, that thing on the floor is a box from my move in March):
08/15/2012
