The dark side, finally!

After getting bitten by some bad nasty thing, Ginger has been in semi-quarantine since Friday.  I say semi-quarantine because the way I've got her confined is hilarious.  No self respecting cat with an ounce of pride would be restrained by my flimsy barricade.  The barricade consists of a couple old window screens stretched across a third of the porch.  A kitten could easily jump the three feet needed to clear the screens.  A kitten could also easily knock the flimsy things over and waltz on out.  But, we're talking about Ginger here.

To be fair,  the house cats are also being reasonably respectful of the boundary dividing their play pen/ porch.  I know they can easily cross it.  Yesterday, I when I was compressing Ginger's wounds, Salem got jealous and followed me in.  She did this by jumping up and walking along the sill until she was crouched over my head.  I sent her back.  This morning, I caught Angie doing a little sill walking to get to the other side of the porch.   But most of the time, the cats seem to be operating on an honor system I didn't know they possessed.  I am so proud of my house cats.  Apparently they are waiting until the intruder, Ginger, heals before they start slapping her around.  Unfortunately, it is obvious that Salem is just biding her time.  She's been balefully eyeing the invading orange cat through  the screens.  Maybe Ginger stays behind the flimsy barrier because she knows Salem is gunning for her.  But the house cats only go on the porch occasionally.  They spend the majority of their time indoors.  So why doesn't Ginger breach the barrier when the other cats are away?

I suspect it is because Ginger is weird.  I've suspected this for a long time.  Until she came along, I had never encountered a docile obedient cat.  If I hadn't seen her with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed such a creature existed.  She's so well behaved, I've been fighting the urge to make her a house cat.  The last thing I  need is another house cat.

Occasionally, I suspect Ginger's feline halo is fake.  Maybe she is so gentle and well behaved because she's terrified.  I know she was scared out of her wits during her vet visit.  The doctor claimed Ginger did growl at her although  I've never heard Ginger growl.  The idea that Ginger actually growled was a relief to me.  Finally, a little sign she might be a normal cat.    I've been hoping that during her confinement, Ginger will drop her angelic mask.

It finally happened this morning.  The real Ginger put in an appearance.  I had finished grooming the other cats and thought, heck, why not try brushing Ginger.  So I stepped behind the flimsy barricade and lured Ginger out from under the chair she hides under.  For the first time in her life, Ginger got brushed.  The brushing finally pushed her over the edge.  At first she protested by demonstrating that the brush wasn't necessary and that she could groom herself just fine on the legs of my jeans.  It only took her a few seconds to fur coat the jeans.  Then she decided to see if the brush was edible.  It wasn't.  Even so, the brush had a strange catnip like effect on her.  Within a few brush strokes, Ginger was drunkenly rolling around while nipping at the brush.  She also did a bit of dancing on my sandal clad feet.  Although she enjoyed this, I found the tap dancing on my exposed skin a bit painful.  Poor Ginger.  I was finished brushing before she was ready.  Her wise little human face wore a disappointed expression when I fled to the other side of the barrier.

Ginger's dark side has begun to reveal it's self.  And what has been revealed, so far, is that the little orange cat is crazier than a loon.