Fabulous Babulous…. sunbeaming again.
Most folks who visit the Fyfe Farm haven’t met Bebe, our mysterious feline companion. If she hears that doorbell ring or a voice in the house she disappears like magic and we won’t see her for at least 2 hours.
If the house guests are spending the night I won’t see her until its time for soft food when the guest room door is closed before bed. I don’t know where she re-appears from. Sometimes the garage, sometimes the boat, sometimes from behind the washing machine.
She’s been that way ever since Whitney and her friend brought her and her littermate, Cartman home in Bismarck. I had only told the kids about the litter of kittens down the road so they would slow down with their driving. Not because we needed 2 more cats.
Bebe as a kitten
When Babs and Cartman joined us that brought our indoor collection of cats to 8, which is totally ridiculous and I think it might be partly why she is as shy as she is.
When you’re the youngest sibling in a household of older, well established sibs you probably don’t need to communicate much. Or interact, other than for basic necessities like eating & using the litter box.
Over the years she slowly packed on some weight and she just did her own thing.
She, like every other female Fyfe adored our big boy, Oscar, who was basically the king of the cats.
Cooper, Boomer and Bebe snuggled in with Oscar
It wasn’t unusual to find any combination of the girls with him in one of the cat beds scattered throughout the house.
This went on for years.
Until we lost Oscar.
That was the beginning of the change in feline dynamics around here because Mulder was suddenly in charge. Until we lost him, too.
You can imagine the dynamics when there are this many of you! And you can’t even see Sport and Cooper!
And everything changed as Attrition continued until, as of February, we had a house with 2 indoor cats and Babs is one of them.
Which is when we got to meet the real Bebe Fyfe.
Our quiet, not-so-little fan of sunbeams and soft food has become a Domesticated Indoor Cat.
Shy, young Bebe many years ago
She meows at me to remind me that our morning routine has changed.
On top of letting the dogs out, feeding the dogs, cleaning the litter box, feeding Loki, getting Rimadyl for Loki, changing the water in the water dish, getting water to Luigi, and giving treats to Luigi as I clean his cage, I now have to give 3 Greenies treats to a somewhat demanding grey & white Domesticated Indoor Cat.
I mean, she’s cute about it but when did this all start? I didn’t even know she could meow!
Bebe now comes down to our bedroom on sleep-in mornings if we’re lazily watching Netflix while sipping our Kona coffee and joins us.
On. The. Bed.
“What?”
And she purrs and cuddles and interacts as if she’s been a normal cat all of her life.
She’s also lost some weight, probably due to being more active around the house and outside as well. She’s much smaller than she was in the photo above, which was taken just after we lost Boomer in February.
Boomer and Bebe always cuddled in the cat beds but there must have been something about her that kept our strange little Bebe quiet all those years.
Bebe’s sole pastime for years (aside from sunbeaming) was staring at our freezers in the garage. When I had my clinic that’s where I would sadly bring home patients we’d lost who were going in for cremation. Bebe would make the strangest chirping sounds and tip her head from side to side while staring at the freezer. We just figured she was communicating with the spirits and we’ve been fine with that.
“You don’t want me to exercise, do you?”
I don’t see her staring at the freezer much any more.
Maybe she was communicating with the spirits who were likely a bit confused about their situation. I know that every paw of every pet that I have held while they transitioned with their families by their side was ready to lay down and have a good, long nap. They may not have put that thought together but I have only ever said goodbye when it was necessary.
Never out of convenience.
I used to think that was an endearing quality that Bebe had and really, she did it with such regularity it was almost a bit freakish.
But it doesn’t happen now & that’s not because our freezer is empty. Mouse, Boomer, Calypso & Phillipa sadly are beneath Alistair’s treasured huckleberries right now. I think Bebe just knows that they understand where they are and their spirits are still right at home.
Bebe & Sport waiting for Mummy to open the kitchen door a few days ago.
And her own spirit is blossoming as she grows into the Domesticated Indoor Cat that she is becoming.
And we like her chirping and meowing and visiting us throughout the house. I like seeing her and Loki sleeping closer and closer together on the bed. I love the feel of her clawless paws as she kneads my lap when she explores the land of lap-sitting. I like feeding her bits of bacon on sleep-in mornings although I suspect we won’t ever get to the Kiss Piece stage of domestication.
Its fun watching her explore our house- the living room with the warm wood stove and the snoring Boston Terrier snoozing in front of it; our bedroom with all of its windows and the big TV she likes to stare at; the computer room where I do all of my creating and Loki sleeps on my feet like she is now; and the outdoor world where she has even brought a couple of mice up that big old plank.
And I love sharing Fabulous Babulous with all of you!
Just another day in a cat bed with Cooper & Oscar and Boomer wondering where she was going to fit.
“Pleased to meet you, Jacques. I’m Bebe. Don’t chase me, okay?”
The ultimate Sunbeamer.
Just now, refusing to look at the camera. Oh, Bebe!
tanyafyfe 