I was followed home from the boat tonight by an orange fluffy kitten who looked very much like Currie as a baby, all fluffy tail and long hair. She followed me right to my front door, and was clearly scared and out of her element. She was not wearing a collar and did not appear to know where home was.
I was immediately worried. I sat on my front stoop, even though it was midnight, and waited and watched to see if the little cat would find home. She ran nervously from building to building, sniffed hedges, skulked between cars in the car park. Whenever she saw me looking, she would run to me and sit on my lap. Meanwhile, Currie was in the front window looking down at the action in the garden below and wondering what the hell was going on (and asking in a very loud meow).
I didn't know what to do. As I sat there, wondering if I should bring the cat inside, Orange Kitty ran into a hedge and didn't reappear for several minutes. I thought this meant she belonged to one of the houses behind the hedges, so I went inside to Currie, and got ready for bed. However, as I went to pull down my bedroom blind, I looked into the garden and there was Orange Kitty, still clearly trying to get her bearings and not sure which way to go. I sighed, and went downstairs. I opened the front door of the building and Orange Kitty came barreling towards me. I picked her up and she didn't protest, and we went upstairs.
I nervously opened the door, with Orange Kitty in my arms. Currie meowed, but didn't seem to understand what I was holding. I backed into the spare bedroom, intending to deposit Orange Kitty and shut the door quite quickly. However, before I could do so, Orange Kitty had spotted Currie, dug her claws into my arm, and hissed. Currie's ears immediately went back on her head and she hissed as well. I hastily slammed myself and Orange Kitty in the spare room, with Currie howling outside. Orange Kitty retreated to the far corner of the room, to the windowsill, and sat there hissing at me, too.
Great.
I inched out of the spare room. Currie sat there looking confused and meowing piteously, but not angry. She allowed me to pet her, give her treats, and tell her she was a good cat. We went to the kitchen. I put together a water and food tray and a litter box for Orange Kitty, with Currie on my heels. I thought that, given the foxes that appear on a regular basis in my front garden, it was best to keep Orange Kitty inside tonight and look for her owner, or call the RSPCA, tomorrow. I put Currie in my bedroom with the door shut, and then opened the door to the spare room, to deposit Orange Kitty's supplies.
Orange Kitty was not looking happy. She could hear Currie howling from the next room over and was clearly frightened. She hissed at me but let me pet her. I settled her in, turned off the light, and then shut the door. I then opened the door to my bedroom.
Currie ejected herself from the room, ears back, spitting at me. Actually, she looked rabid. She had found her angry place in the 5 minutes she had been quarantined in my bedroom and was no longer playing the victim. She was on the warpath. She immediately stationed herself outside Orange Kitty's room and howled at the door. I could hear poor little Orange Kitty scrambling to hide in the spare room. Unfortunately, given that the apartment is nearly empty, there was nowhere for her to go, and she backed further and further into the windowsill.
I thought I would leave Currie to her own devices and get ready for bed. However, as I walked past Currie towards the bathroom, she hurled herself at me with such force, and with such viciousness, growling, that I was actually frightened of her. There was no touching her, or even getting within 5 feet of her. After several attempts, I realised that Currie was getting more and more angry by the second. She was actually on the offensive now, and was lunging forward to claw at me. Thank goodness I was wearing jeans and Ugg boots up past my ankles, because I think she would really have hurt me, otherwise. There was no consoling her.
I came to the horrible conclusion that, best intentions aside, I couldn't let Orange Kitty hide out here tonight. I had to return her to the garden and hope that she found her way home, or at least found a safe hedge where she could hide from foxes. My eyes filled with tears at the thought of it, but watching my own cat turn into Old Yeller was scaring the crap out of me. Knowing that Currie was going to be subjected to another traumatic world trip in a month, and knowing that her current temper and skittishness are direct after-effects of the last world trip, I felt insanely guilty and like a horrible pet-parent. I also felt like a horrible human being for abandoning Orange Kitty outside. There was no way I was going to feel good in this situation.
Somehow I herded Currie into her room. Again, she coiled and sprang at me. I had to shout; she hissed, she spat, she clawed, but somehow I got her into the bedroom and shut the door. Then I heaved a sigh, opened the spare room door, and told Orange Kitty she had to go. She didn't want to move, as I am sure she thought Currie would be lying in wait if she took a step outside the spare room. I inched towards Orange Kitty, who was also hissing at this point, and picked her up. Apologising the whole way, I walked her down the stairs, opened the front door, and put her on the stoop. She dashed away from me, and then into the garden, in the opposite direction of where she had come from when she initially followed me home. I told her I hoped she would be okay, and went upstairs to Currie Cat.
I got into the flat and opened the bedroom door. Currie moaned and hissed, but did not attack. She skulked out of the room and into the spare room, smelling traces of Orange Kitty and howling at me. I decided it was best to leave her alone and tried to get into my own bedroom without making her too angry. She has spent the last 20 minutes alternately meowing, growling, hissing, and eating the food I had put out for Orange Kitty. She has just come and rubbed her face along my foot, which I think is an apology. I have already said sorry to her a million times, and have looked anxiously out the window saying silent apologies to Orange Kitty that I couldn't keep her safe.
It's clear that Currie is an Alpha Cat. Not only that, an Alpha Cat with a temper. It's pretty obvious to me that I will never be able to have another animal while Currie is around: it wouldn't be fair to her or to a newcomer. Whether this is just something that has always been in Currie's personality or whether this is something I have cultivated by doting on her and spoiling her rotten, I don't know, but I know for sure my house will have to be a one-cat house in the Age of Currie.