He has invaded my home for a fair four- almost five- months. He is a fluffy beast, his stomach encased in fat and fur. All gray, from his snout to the tip of his tangled tail, except his glowing amber eyes.
When I was first introduced to him, he was only two weeks old. The tiniest, most fragile being that I ever held- barely a pound in my hand. So warm and curious.
It was during a playful summer in Washington state, where the mountains lifted their faces to the radiant sun, and the breeze tickled the branches of evergreen trees. My family decided to adopt a young cat off of Craigslist- for reasons I cannot fathom- and I held him all the while back to our condo.
Stone, the gray cat, was incredibly adorable, always seeking my mother’s attention. He was strong and confident- curious about the world, which seemed so big. When I left Washington for home, I left hoping that he would remember me, and stay the same.
Now, after several fair months, I have seen that his character has completely changed. Unusual eccentricities have arisen that make him an enigma- an enigma that is almost uncat-like.
During a typical day, he would wake up at the foot of my bed, and wait to be fed. I would rise, then take out their cat food, opening the wet food can on a kitchen countertop. While the other cat, Forest, patiently awaits his meal, rubbing his head against my leg, the gray cat hops on the counter and starts licking the can. Yet, when I place their food down near their water bowl, Forest begins eating and Stone remains with the empty can. Sometimes, I even have to remove him from the countertop and push him toward his bowl.
He is not awfully bright.
Case in point, he can push, but not pull. When he enters a room, he can easily push open the door. However, when he attempts to exit, he cannot figure out how to pull open the door; instead, he hopelessly paws and scratches at the door until I become so annoyed that I open the door myself.
Stone, most of the time, lounges about the house, but in the strangest positions. Normally, a cat would sleep on their side or curled up on their stomach, resting on their paws. The gray cat, like a human, sleeps comfortably on his back, toes curled and his vulnerable stomach exposed to whatever dangers may come.
Despite these slight eccentricities that I am now getting accustomed to, Stone is just as worthy of an affectionate home as any other cat. He follows me about the house wherever I go, even to the restroom, and sits by me while I work and sleep. His stalking nature is strangely endearing. And, in spite of his clumsy, clobbering nature, he sits as a gentleman would- his delicate manner of crossing his paws or standing in a ballet first position.
It is easy to misjudge this cat, especially when I have known a different, younger version of him. Though, I love him nonetheless as this gray cat is truly sweet at heart and not the sum of small quirks.