Tuesday, December 4, 2007
So lovely and yet so very disturbed.
You would never guess from her pristine appearance what demons haunt poor Frannie. When she isn't folowing Clarence or Mimi around with a single-minded predatory intent, she is pulling her own hair out (usually all over a freshly-vacuumed carpet.) We make allowances for her because we realize the life of a deaf cat is one of isolation and confusion but I have heard of several apparently well-adjusted deaf cats so suspect some of her problems may stem from having had such a chaotic kittenhood.
Still--you would think six years of (relative) sanity and stability with us would count for something.
Not to make any generalizations, but almost all our white cats seem to be psycho to some extent. The only normal white cat we had was the late-lamented Pickle Boy, who was as down-to-earth and sensible a cat as you would want.
One the other hand, there's BeBe, posing in his pretty pink Piddlepants as he helps trim the tree.