Lucille Dumbrava

Pansy has not purred in almost two months. Pansy, my closest kitty, the one who sleeps with me every night, and stays with me when I'm sick, guarding my rest, Pansy doesn't purr any more. She still is there next to me, but now the only sound I ever hear from her is a deep rumbling growl she emits whenever Pandora comes near. I used to be able to bring a loud deep purr from her whenever I tousled her ears or stroked her or, sometimes, just by telling her what a beautiful wonderful cat she is, but now nothing I do will make her purr. It is so sad.

I saw it coming, and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. When I brought Pandora home as a three-month-old kitten, I envisioned her and Pansy becoming close, being playmates. Pansy is only two and she has far too much energy for the other cats who are both in their teens. I thought having a young buddy around would be perfect for Pansy.

At first, Pandora's playfulness seemed to be good. Although she wanted to indulge in lots of kitten tussles, Pansy seemed okay with it, and when she had enough would calm the kitten down by putting a paw on her until she settled down. But Pandora's aggressiveness has escalated. She chases Pansy constantly, and what were a kitten's bats and nips have intensified to a half-grown cat's bites and clawing. She chases all three older cats, but it is Pansy she goes after most often and most fiercely.

Pansy seemed to really take to having the new cat in the beginning. She'd lie next to her and lick the little one into drowsiness and both cats' rumbling purrs would fill the room. But soon, Pandora began waiting until Pansy stopped licking, and then would lift up and bite the larger cat in the stomach. The mothering routine ended after that. Pandora bites whenever she can, and Pansy reacts now, sometimes even chasing after her to bite back.

I've tried everything, from praising gentle behavior to sharp “Nos!”, to squirts with the water bottle, to timeouts in the bathroom, to even, I'm ashamed to admit, occasional swats when Pansy's cry of pain is especially loud. I think that Pandora is jealous of any attention the other cats get, and I don't know what to do about it.

I'm afraid she needs to be in a one-cat household, and that's something I can never give her. She curls up on my lap in a tiny ball and is so affectionate that I can't help but love her. She plays endless games of fetch and feather and chase and is wonderful fun. She has tried so hard to learn the "rules" of eating from her own bowl and sharing toys, and purrs loudly when I praise her for it. I love Pandora, but I'm becoming more and more afraid that I can't keep her.

I've dealt with jealous cats before - Pumpkin, my Scottish Fold cat who died recently, still holds the world prize for demanding all the attention. But she was never really mean, just incredibly pushy. Pandora has me floored. I can't stand the thought of giving her up, but I can't let the others, especially Pansy, suffer. I keep hoping age will mellow her, but it doesn't seem fair to the others to let her bite them and claw them at will.

For now, I'm snuggling Pansy whenever I can and trying to take it day by day, week by week, and hoping something will change. But the decision has to be made soon, and I'm not sure I'm ready for it.

Today is the day. Pandora has started watching and listening for any signs of affection to one of the other cats, She rushes over and pushes herself between my hand and the other kitty, using her feet and her teeth to make the other leave. I want to be angry with her, but I can see it is her need for affection that does it. But, now Pansy has started hiding; Koala is slinking around belly to the floor, and Tuffy leaves her seat on a tall chair only to eat and use her box.

I call the paper and put in a long ad and make up bulletin board cards describing Pandora's cute face, her playful, loving ways, and her bright personality. The ad stresses she must be an only pet as she wants undivided love, but I also mention that her owner will get all of Pandora's love. The title is Pandora Needs Your Love. It seems to me that in this area where many of the residents are older, there is a perfect home waiting for this little girl. I ignore the pain in my heart and the tenseness in my stomach, and I have to rewrite more than one of the cards because the writing is smeared by tears.

Soon, too soon, comes a call, and a soft woman's voice is asking questions about the kitty that is looking for a new home. I answer truthfully, and with each answer, I can hear the woman's enthusiasm growing. We make arrangements for her to come visit.

Later in the afternoon, she comes to the door. As soon as she is inside, Pandora comes running to see the visitor. Within minutes, the woman is on the floor trailing a laser light for Pandora to chase, and I realize she is being captivated as quickly as I was by this endearing kitten. We talk and I am aware that this is a gentle, warm person who will be a good new ''Mommy'' for Pandora. My mind is glad; my heart is breaking.

The woman makes up her mind as I knew she would; Pandora is a sweet, lovable intruder into one's heart. I begin to pack up favorite toys, some bowls, and the food and treats that Pandora is used to. Down comes the hanging string that holds a fluffy mouse to bat. Into the bag goes her favorite octopus, a bit of fluff with dangling legs that Pandora loves to fight with, cuddle, nurse on, and retrieve in games of fetch. Her sleeping pillow that she favors for naps, her well-loved laser light to chase. Pandora goes into a crate, and her wide eyes show she knows something is going on.

I walk out to the woman's car with her, helping to carry Pandora's luggage. The kitty rides in her crate docilely, her eyes darting between the two humans determining her fate. I register the lady's soft endearments to her and the gentleness with which she treats the little cat, and I feel a twinge. As she closes the car door, she comments that I am being so brave, and I burst into tears. The car pulls slowly away; I walk in circles on the grass strip trying to stop sobbing or at least to clear my eyes enough to see the path back to the house.

The house is unbearably empty. I cry until no more tears will come, and Pansy comes to lick the saltiness of my face. And Pansy purrs. Days go by and I almost reach the place where every dark shadow is not Pandora hiding, and I do not miss her so much there is a knot in my heart. Then the phone rings and it is the woman telling me her husband has decided he can't stand cats, and he is making life miserable for her and Pandora. I tell her to bring Pandora home.

How do I go through this again? I must. Pansy is in hiding again and the others are sullen. Only Pandora trails me constantly, purring, bringing toys for me to throw, sitting on my lap. I love this little cat so. But I know that four months of waiting have shown me what is the only answer, and so the ad goes in the paper and the signs go up again.

Another call, and this time I question the caller carefully. Does everyone in your family agree about having a cat? She tells me that they have just lost a much-loved cat and are looking for one to join their home. We agree that she will come meet Pandora and take pictures home, and then it will be a final decision.

And so that is what we do. Jan comes and takes pictures and I can tell by her manner that she has fallen under Pandora's spell. She goes home and calls me excitedly. Can they come and get Pandora? Everyone is excited and can't wait to pick her up. I agree and we set the time. Again I pack up the cat's things, and hold her tightly on my lap waiting for the knock.

I open the door to a family. Jan and three teenaged children, two boys and a girl, stand all eager-faced and excited, waiting. They come in, and the children see Pandora, and it is instant love. Pandora shows off, and the children fall in love with her. Jan smiles. I put Pandora in her travel crate, feeling my heart wrench. I cannot hold back the tears and I almost hurry them all out of the house. Then I curl up in the chair and weep.

A week later I call Jan to see how things are going. I have been afraid to let go completely until I know for sure things are going to work. Jan assures me that they are all taken by the little cat; she curls up in everyone's laps and plays and is enjoying herself. Deep within me, I relax, knowing I did the right thing for all the cats involved and that Pandora is happy. I can let go.

That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, and that the tears don't come in a rush whenever I find a toy that Pandora has hidden in one of her secret spots. It just means it's easier to think of her with a good home. Pansy curls up next to me and purrs, and I stroke her soft fur.

Lucille Dumbrava is a retired Teacher/counselor whose love of cats and love of writing started when she was a child. Many of her stories about the cats in her life have been collected in a book entitled CatHouse, now available from www.bookstandpublishing.com and soon from Barnes and Noble, Amazon, and local Northern California bookstores. You can also order directly from Lucille. She can be reached at Ldandcats@catsfamily.com