When E. and I first met he had a cat. That same cat is still alive at nineteen years old. She’s never thought much of R. She saw her first as a lap usurper, and then when R. started crawling I think she was scarred for life.
For the longest time, I could not help but compare R. to the cat. She’s finally bigger than the cat! She’s faster, and my favorite – she listens better than the cat.
The cat is in decent health, but the vet said that she has dementia. It seems ironic somehow to me, as the parent of a child with autism to have a demented cat. But it does explain some of her behavior. She has kitty tantrums, meowing, howling and sometimes knocking things over. I’ll spare you the rest.
Trying to figure out the cat’s behavior shows me how much easier even R.’s most perplexing behaviors are to deal with or understand.
Lately the cat will actually go to R. and meow at her. I can’t imagine what she wants. Today R. looked at the cat, listened to her incessant meowing and said stop kitty kitty.