Choosing Aged Cats Over Kittens

I’m a cat person. I prefer cats to dogs. I don’t know why, but I think it’s because cats are more independent and don’t demand as much attention.

That independence suits a writer. Writing requires long periods of sitting alone, thinking about people who don’t exist and listening to conversations no one else can hear. Cats understand that kind of behaviour. They don’t question it. They simply find a warm place nearby, settle down and supervise.

In 1978, my first kitten cost me just 50 cents. I was a kid with some pocket money; she was about the cutest thing I’d ever seen!

Smokey came from a Mount Gravatt (south of Brisbane) flea market. We took her home, watched her grow, and had fun with her; that’s when my lifelong attraction to felines began.

And it doesn’t matter the cat’s age; I look for one with personality. The aloof variety isn’t my thing. It’s got to like people, not just appear at mealtime and then disappear. I’ve become good at finding a sensational cat whenever I need to look for one.

There are occasions when that happens.

Unfortunately, cats don’t live forever; a human’s lifespan is much longer. This means I’ve owned a few cats in my time.

When we lost 14-year-old Quattro in 2008 years ago, it was time to visit the cat shelter again. I always go for adult cats. Yes, I bypass the cute kittens because of what I’ve learned about cats. It’s not because I don’t like kittens, but because the adults have evolved into their forever personalities. You’ll know what type of cat you’re going to get when it’s grown. Kittens have cuteness. Cuteness won’t translate into positive personalities. So I hug the kittens and then put them down.

I’m looking for homeless grown-ups, those with good character and personality.

I’d like you to meet Levi. He’s our current fella. He was about nine months old when he stepped forward and twisted his tail around Margo’s leg. She reached down and took to him instantly. I wasn’t so convinced. An attentive tail isn’t enough. My interest was originally with a 4-year-old black short-haired named Jett. He looked me in the eye and talked back when I spoke to him. He was responsive and wasn’t shy about showing it. For me, this started ticking many boxes.

I then picked him up to see how he liked being handled. Everything was going fine until I rolled him over to stroke his stomach.

That bite ticked a completely different box!

Jett wasn’t angry. Many cats do this when touched on their tummies, often because a child was playing roughhouse with them as they were growing. Could I tolerate this enough to retrain Jett to accept belly rubs? Perhaps.

Sharkey entered the picture. He had Persian in his blood and this weird-looking overbite. At 11 years of age, his time in the shelter was already too long. What a smoochy purrer! He wasn’t shy about showing his happiness! He rolled over to have his tummy rubbed.

Two cats came home with us that day!

Sharkey was already an aged cat when we adopted him, but that didn’t stop him from becoming part of an important period in my writing life. He was around while I wrote the first SEETHINGS novel. Levi was there too, and managed to witness the development of the entire trilogy.

I use the word “witness” loosely. Neither offered useful comments on character development, plot structure or psychological tension. They preferred to provide their support through sleep.

At various times, each would climb onto my desk, find a space among whatever I was using and settle down. A computer, notes and other writing materials meant little to a cat searching for the perfect sleeping position. If the desk wasn’t suitable, there was always the awkward space behind my back on my chair. Apparently, that narrow gap was comfortable. It wasn’t especially comfortable for me, but a writer learns to adapt.

Much of SEETHINGS explores isolation, troubled relationships and the darkness people conceal from one another. Writing that kind of fiction requires spending a great deal of time inside uncomfortable thoughts. Sharkey and Levi provided a quiet connection to the ordinary world while I worked. However dark the scene became, there was usually a sleeping cat nearby, completely unconcerned by what was happening on the page.

They became part of the writing process without knowing it. Sharkey accompanied the beginning of the story. Levi remained through its expansion into three novels, watching characters appear, change and reveal what they had been hiding. Manuscripts grew, stories darkened and years passed, but the cats continued doing what cats do best: occupying the least convenient place and making it impossible to move without disturbing them.

Levi and Sharkey became good friends until Sharkey died in 2012. He lived a fabulous life with us, sleeping in our bed every night, snuggling in when we woke, and walking with us on the property. We were sad the day he left us. Levi now sleeps in place of Sharkey, walks where he walked… and loves the odd tummy rub too!

When I look back at the years spent writing SEETHINGS, I can’t separate the books entirely from the cats who shared the room with me. They weren’t inspirations for the darkness inside the novels. They were the soft counterweight to it—the warm, sleeping companions who remained close while I explored much colder places.

He is our special boy!

–Michael (Dark Fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)