I’d never had a black cat before when we were gifted Hazel by a friend of my husband. She’d been dumped on said friend by a stranger who knew she worked at an animal rescue centre and told her she couldn’t cope with a kitten. I have no idea why, because Hazel is the sweetest cat we’ve ever owned.
Her brother from another mother on the other hand is a furry two year old. His favourite past time is knocking stuff off the table, scaling the curtains and door frames and bouncing on your stomach first thing in the morning. That’s not to say he isn’t a sweetie at times. A handsome sweetie and doesn’t he just know it.
He lives to torment Hazel, poor puss. With sitting on her being favourite. She’s so sweet that she never kicks him off but she does growl at him when he cleans her head and puts her into a sleeper hold to do it.
During his sweet moments he’s a wonderfully loving cat. He especially likes to be cuddled like a small baby while I mark school work on my laptop. He purrs like a motorbike too.
The main difference between them is that Hazel is an outdoor cat, while Blue is an indoor cat. The cat we had before Hazel was killed by a hit and run driver and when we let Hazel out she developed anxiety due to being targeted by other cats in the neighbourhood. Of course we can’t suddenly make her an indoor cat, but we decided that every cat after her would be indoor ones.
Blue has escaped out of the back door a couple of times though, suffice to say he’s only a baby house panther. He’s too cowardly for outside. Bless him.
They’re my furry babies though and they’ve taken good care of me during lockdown, with loves and laughs.
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