Ever since we got our dog three years ago, our cat, Luna, has chosen to stay in the basement during the day. She only comes up at night when I and the dog are safely ensconced in the guest room with the door closed. She sleeps with Husband in the master bedroom, and wanders freely around the house. In the morning she returns to the basement for the day. The dog has no access to the basement.
Kyrill is not an aggressive dog. He is just curious and wants to investigate the cat. She has always been timid around other of our pets, even the cats, and doesn’t like a long, terrier nose sniffing her all over. I didn’t want to force them to engage with each other out of respect for Luna’s discomfort. The header photo is of Luna before we got the dog. She liked using the hanging rug as her climbing wall.
Over the past several months I noticed Luna and Kyrill booping their noses together through the gate that keeps Kyrill from going in the basement. I was very surprised a few weeks ago when I came home from work and found her sleeping on the upstairs bed in the master bedroom. The dog roams freely around the upstairs all day and can hear a bug crawl across the floor, and would have heard her jump over the gate. Kyrill just ignored her and did not give chase. She spent hours on the bed. He is able to jump up on the bed, but didn’t.
Last weekend I went into our study upstairs to work on the computer, and Luna followed me in with the dog. I made Kyrill sit while I petted both of them. Both sat by my chair while I worked. When I got up to leave the room, Kyrill came with me and Luna stayed for a few minutes and then went back downstairs.
I have no idea what has brought about this new show of cat bravery. I can only hope that it continues and she can finally come upstairs and spend more time with us. I like our increasingly peaceable kingdom.
Who have been your bravest or most timid pets. What fears have you or your pets overcome?
Trail Baboon 
My last Irish Setter, Rhiannon, came to me (as a rescue) with a fear of thunderstorms. It was severe enough that we ended up getting her a thundershirt which wrapped all around her torso and gave her relief.
Then when she was four, we got airport money and had the upstairs windows replaced. This was a two-day project and then another two days to get the new curtain rods and curtains up in my room. During this time, the moon shone into my bedroom like nobody’s business and, of course, it was much quieter as the windows were noise abatement windows (they really work). Suddenly Rhiannon was terrified of sleeping in the bedroom. Her modus operandi was to crawl under the bed. This would have been fine except that she would never lay still under the bed, so then I couldn’t sleep either. We resorted to the thundershirt and even with that, she would lay on the floor with her head under the bed to sleep at night. It took about a month before she was back to normal.
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Oh, I almost forgot. Kyril is THREE? How did that happen? I still think of him as a new puppy.
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Nimue and Guinevere get along except when they don’t. The biggest issue is that occasionally N startles G. G lunges, N runs away, then G’s herding genes kick in and she chases. This has led to two very bad encounters, one of which required surgery for N.
Our current situation includes two very nice dog gates placed so that the cat always has an escape route. And G has to be kenneled if both YA and I are out of the house. These deterrants work well and there is probably a lunge every couple of weeks but nothing more for at least two years. Phew!
Except for the startling/chasing, they mostly ignore each other.
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Our dog Ernie has separation anxiety. A 2-year-old dachshund mix, he is emotionally distant in almost all situations except one in which he is about to be left behind. He wails, he yodels. The other day he had an asthma attack. We’ve had to leave him at my sister-in-law’s during a flood at our house. He has our other dog Bruno and my sister-in-law’s dog Chloe for company. This is clearly not adequate. When I went for a visit yesterday, he crawled into my lap, tucked his muzzle under my chin, and would not move. It’s like having a special needs child.
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The Birds are brave when they want treat. But they are not like some videos that show species snuggling up with owners. I don’t feel the need to handle them a lot. I’m good with feeding them out of my hand and just listening to Bird voices.
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My Pippin was a highly anxious boy. He had severe separation anxiety. He was afraid of riding in the car, fireworks, and thunderstorms, and afraid (for reasons unknown) of the stove. I don’t think he liked the soft clicking the oven made as it warmed. The thunder shirt didn’t work for him. It seemed to make him even more anxious. Cuddling him helped sometimes. I’d hold him on my lap, and feel his body trembling. It was hard to help him with all those fears. I remember putting him in the car and going for a drive way out in the country for a couple of July 4th evenings, even though he was afraid of being in the car. He was just so terrified of everything. His safe place seemed to be upstairs in the bathtub. I learned to just let him go up there and pace back and forth in the bathtub, but it made me unhappy for him.
The vet wondered aloud once if he had dementia. I think that might have been part of the problem. The other part of the problem was the nice life Pippin had when we lived in Waterville. He got to go over to my friend’s house while I was at work and play with her dog and bark at the mail carrier. When we moved here, he lost all that, and I had to go to work. It was okay for a while, but as time went on he became less satisfied with the situation and his behavior showed it. When I finally retired and stayed home more, and when the covid shutdown happened, he had me all to himself. He was happy then, and he refused to tolerate me leaving home after that.
It’s possible that he had me wrapped around his paw.
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Rise and Shine, Baboons,
Our most timid pet was the late cat, Mochise, who wore a perfect tuxedo. I got her from a coworker who was pregnant. The coworker did not think the cat would adapt to a baby, and I agree. We brought the cat home and did not see her at all for 3 weeks. But there was evidence of life–she ate and pooped and drank water. She was with us until around 2000 when she simply disappeared and we never found her. She used to escape to sit in Lou’s kayak (she was obsessed with Lou–I was simply here to feed her). However, there was no sign of her again. It was sad.
Bootsy, the dog who many of you met, was also very shy, but she had PTSD from her early life with a pet hoarder. She was so afraid of men. I did exposure therapy with her for a year, having every male in my life feed her smoked turkey, the only treat she liked. She also had nightmares and would scream in her sleep which was just awful for her. That eventually went away as she adapted to life with us. Our Bootsy left us Sept. 2023 and I still miss her. She did not like Phoebe one little bit.
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Apropos yesterday‘s commentary at the end of the day. This morning I have on light gray sweatpants, a coral colored T-shirt and I found a pair of socks in the drawer that are light gray with palm trees and dogs doing the hula but the hula outfits are coral. It’s how I roll.
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See, and they’re all happy together.
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Have to read later – When Joel was about 9 months old, we got a teenaged cat named Sox (see yesterday). He was just getting used to us when Joel decided it was time to learn to walk!, kind of skipped right over crawling… The look on Sox’s face when he saw this was “Oh, sh**, what kind of fresh hell is this?”
Charlie the cat was afraid of bitter cold. He would meow to go out on a sub-zero morning, I would open the door, he would literally duck the cold blast, look up like “What, you want me to go out in THAT??” and head back inside.
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If there was ever a doubt that pets are unique individuals, this discussion dispels that. We had one cat, Patty, whose big brother, Calvin, constantly beat her up.She was a but smaller and timid beyond words. The epitome of a scaredy cat. Always nervous, even when sitting on our laps. At the slightest movement by us or noise from anywhere, she’d startle and usually jump down and hide or run.
Calvin wasn’t much better. But it took a little more commotion for him to bolt.
They were both born feral, separated from mom too early, and both distrusted anyone but us. We used to pay the neighborhood kids a few bucks to feed them and clean the litter box when we went on vacation for more than a few days. One girl, Rachel, cared for them for two weeks and never saw either of them the entire time. The only reason she knew they were alive were the empty food/water dishes and poop/pee in the litter box every day.
Chris in Owatonna
**BSP**
Twin Cities Sisters in Crime Author/book Fair tomorrow at the St. Michael City Hall in their council chambers meeting room from 10 am to 2 pm. There will be two author panels discussing writing crime novels, coffee and treats available, and 30 local authors, all crime/mystery/thriller writers, who will offer their books for sale. This is our second year doing this event. Last year was so successful the Friends of the St. Michael Library invited us back. Hope to see you all there. For directions, Google “St. Michael City Hall” and you’ll find the address.
**END BSP**
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They are predicting highs of 80° here today.
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My mother was terrified of wind storms. My dad loved to stand in the open garage door and watch the trees blow past during wind storms.
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Daisy, the twelve year old yellow lab we adopted when some friends of ours immigrated to Australia, was the sweetest dog. She was a stubborn and mischievous old pooch, who had a propensity for meandering off when she saw the opportunity. She was a good sized dog, and would occasionally steal food off the kitchen counter if we had left it too close to the front edge.Thunderstorms and fireworks would reduce her to a shivering mess. She was just terrified, and nothing would console her. She lived roughly two years with us until she succumbed to cancer, arthritis, and old age. We had her cremated and spread her ashes on Raspberry Island where we’d go for daily walks.
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My black cat was very brave. We enjoyed battles on the open end of one stairway. She was “counting coup” with slaps. Smack! Bam! I reacted with fake pain.
She was a de-clawed rescue cat. I personally wouldn’t declaw any animal to accommodate me. But I was spared some scratches. Sometimes her teeth were involved in the match. No problem.
Her fistiness got her the name Veloca. Named after the Jurassic Park velociraptors.
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,9 . hzz
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Huh?
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LOL! Would that you could share a video!
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…referring to “counting coup”…
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Renee – I love it that this cat has somehow finally acclimated. Sounds like maybe the gate eventually made Luna feel safe enough to get curious again…
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Jory was definitely the most timid. Whenever someone rang the doorbell he would scamer upstairs, squeeze into the closet, and climb up to an upper shelf and hide there.
Sammy was probably the bravest. Nothing fazed him.
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