If you’ve never lived with a pet, it can be impossible to understand all the little ways they weave themselves into your life.
For example, at the moment, one of the blinds on our sliding glass doors is pushed aside and, although I can’t see her behind the couch, I know Yaya is looking out the window. It’s always the same spot – five blinds down from the left, where she can be closest to Angel while she stares outside.
Had the disturbed blinds been further down to the right, then I would know it was Nova looking out the window.
That’s his spot.
When we use the restroom, Yaya will come in to check on us before standing guard at the door.
Every day.
Every single time.
She stands just outside the door, keeping watch until she hears the toilet flush.
It’s reassuring knowing that we are safe while we tinkle.
Nova is our talker, and I am most often the person he wants to talk to. As I type on the laptop or attempt to read, he’ll meow softly at me to get my attention. If that doesn’t work, he’ll softly paw at my leg to get me to look.
It’s adorable, but he has a temper because, if it is apparent I am not going to respond to his bidding immediately, I then get yelled at.
Yaya doesn’t speak as much but when she does – she screams.
It is the funniest thing. There is no “meow” or soft “mew”, she simply opens her jaws wide and screams like a banshee.
This happens every morning, as I prepare their canned breakfast and walk over to put it in their feeding area…and the wild-eyed look on her face as she screams with excitement cracks me up every time.
Strangely, although Nova has a preference for me, and Yaya has a preference for my husband – they choose to sleep on opposite sides of our bed.
I’ve managed to train Nova to move where I guide him, so that it’s not impossible for us to get into bed without putting him down.
Yaya will have none of this.
She is going to lay where she’s laying and – if you try to scootch her, she will move an inch before plopping her big white booty down again and not budging any further.
Yaya is our morning zoomie girl. As soon as she senses that one of us is getting up for the day, she’ll go bonkers, batting at her toy, racing around the apartment, darting across the back of the couch all wide eyed and crazy. But, it’s so very wonderful to see how happy and comfortable she is here. She’s come a long way in the year since her adoption.
Nova is – quite literally – our scaredy cat. For the most part, he’s incredibly chill but, if one of them is going to jump at a noise or get scared by a garbage bag, it’s going to be our big boy, Nova. We think he gets that from me, as I get wound too tight sometimes, too.
Yaya is our cuddler. She’s not afraid to curl up next to my side for luvins, and she effortlessly eases into Angel’s arms for snuggles while he watches TV or plays video games. She’s content to sit there and let you pet her, gently placing her teeth on us to let us know when she’s had enough or she’s not liking what we’re doing.
Nova seeks luvins – probably more so than Yaya – but he gets so worked up that he can’t sit still. He paces back and forth, plops down – exposing his belly – only to get excited, jump up and pace again.
There’s a joke that pets weave their loose hair into your clothes and furniture at night and, any fur-parents will confirm that this is true.
But our beloved furbabies weave so much more into our lives. There’s so much unconditional love and affection. They are silly and goofy and wacky and fun. They have unique personalities and, getting to know them can be a challenge sometimes, but it’s so worth the effort.