playing fetch with Annie

 Not long after Annie came to live with us, my brother noticed that she'd dropped a ball behind his chair at the kitchen table. They ended up playing fetch, and nobody taught her how - it's just something she knew. She's gone through periods where she'd fetch, and spells where she wouldn't. But lately we figured out that a smallish piece of crumpled paper is perfect for her little mouth to carry and I've tossed as many as ten times to her, with her carrying it back to me. This is awfully cute. 

So today I put the camera on the floor, and took my chances. As for the sheet-covered furniture, what you see is what you get.

Did you see her flip over at the end? She seems to like going head first, never worrying about her little noggin. 

not even one percent

 When Orphan Annie finally had her check-up, she was found to weigh eleven and a half pounds. Ahem. This would be our fault, of course. Dr. P. said it can't continue.

So she hasn't eaten one piece of dry food since, and she does not get food every time she cries, and she cries very pitifully, like all cute cats know how to do.

But we also found out what kind of cat she is. And she's not a Burmese, not even one percent! Here's the lowdown:  

• 41% American domestic and 11% European domestic
• 13% Maine Coon and 12% Norwegian Forest cat (my favorite cat!!) 
• 10% Sphynx (really???)
• 2% Highlander 

That was the Western section. There is a Persian section which says she's 10% Scottish Fold and 1% British Shorthair. So, the British Shorthair is a Persian? And the Scottish Fold, too? Interesting.

Ten percent Sphynx - you know these cats are hairless, right? And she's twenty five percent very hairy cat (the Maine Coon and Forest Cat, which I think are related from way back, along with the Siberian cat: very large, fluffy cats). I had to look up the Highlander, which has ears that seem to curl forward, as opposed to the Scottish Fold, whose ears curve back. What a confusing family line. 

According to something I read, Burmese cats know how to play fetch, and they have a very silky coat and are heavier than they seem. They are good natured, rather like a dog in some ways. Annie is all those things, but it's not enough to make her Burmese. :D It's very cool to me that she's part Norwegian Forest Cat, but that doesn't make her look like one. And, what is the difference between the American Domestic and the European Domestic? I never heard of either. She is a tiny bit British Shorthair, but not American Shorthair. Aren't all regular cats in this country American shorthairs? 

the little imposter

You know that Dolly is next, right?

a fancy cat

 When Orphan Annie came to live with us, my brother showed a photo of her to a client - the lady said she must be part Russian Blue. Well, she isn't remotely blue colored, she's kind of a dark warm gray; when she was young you could see faint stripes, and I thought she might be part tabby, but not a Russian Blue.

Her profile, even from the first, always brought to mind those ancient Egyptian cat statues

although, honestly, I don't think the above photo shows it. I'll keep trying, but she does move around so! Anyway, then Clare said something which made me do a bit of research. 

I had put up the video where Annie is playing fetch with me, and I said we'd never taught her this. Clare said there might be Burmese in her. I looked it up.

Well! Rover has a very interesting article, and almost right away something got my attention: They are heavier than they appear. Bingo! This little cat weighs a ton! I always marvel at it. In fact, they are referred to as "silk covered bricks" - yes! Her fur is so flat and shiny it doesn't seem to require combing. This article also mentions the fetching, and other dog-like behavior and cute personality. 

The cats in the photos don't look like Annie, their faces are rounder. The article says there are American Burmese (rounder faces) and British Burmese (more angular faces), so maybe she's a British. They are supposed to have yellow eyes; Annie's eyes are yellow with a green ring around the pupil. They were yellow when we took her in, though. 

Then I wandered over to an article on the Russian Blue. They sure had her angular facial features. They also have faint stripes when young! And, they all have green eyes when fully grown, but first their eyes are yellow with a green ring! 

Well, if she's got Russian Blue in her, it probably isn't much, but I believe she's got lots of Burmese in her. I don't think her eye color will change anymore, but it's pretty funny to me that a fancy cat just sort of ended up here with us. Thank you, Clare, for sending me down that rabbit hole!

more Phyllis McGinley

Phyllis McGinley wrote on many subjects, including commentary on some religious figures. This poem is about St. Bridget of Ireland.

The Giveaway

Saint Bridget was

A problem child.

Although a lass

Demure and mild,

And one who strove 

To please her dad,

Saint Bridget drove

The family mad.

For here's the fault in Bridget lay:

She would give everything away.

To any soul

Whose luck was out

She'd give her bowl

Of stirabout;

She'd give her shawl,

Divide her purse

With one or all.

And what was worse,

When she ran out of things to give

She'd borrow from a relative.

Her father's gold,

Her grandsire's dinner,

She'd hand to cold

And hungry sinner;

Give wine, give meat,

No matter whose;

Take from her feet

The very shoes,

And when her shoes had gone to others,

Fetch forth her sister's and her mother's.

She could not quit,

She had to share;

Gave bit by bit

The silverware,

The barnyard geese,

The parlor rug,

Her little niece -

'S christening mug,

Even her bed to those in want,

And then the mattress of her aunt.

An easy touch

For poor and lowly,

She gave so much

And grew so holy

That when she died

Of years and fame,

The countryside

Put on her name,

And still the isles of Erin fidget

With generous girls named Bride or Bridget.

Well, one must love her.

Nonetheless,

In thinking of her

Givingness,

There's no denial

She must have been

A sort of trial

To her kin.

The moral, too, seems rather quaint.

Who had the patience of a saint,

From evidence presented here?

Saint Bridget? Or her near and dear?