Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Jersey Girl

I have a new writing partner. After our beloved Hannah died, we were reluctant to get a new cat; we just didn't think we'd find again that magical combination of beauty and personality. But after months of combing the animal shelter ads, we had an instant connection with a two-year-old female named Jersey, and we brought her home. She has ash-colored fur and marbled blue eyes that seem to transcend her tiny body. The name stuck, although we sometimes call her Jersey girl, Jurisdiction, Jurisprudence, Dickey, or Eloise.

Jersey is markedly different from her predecessor. She's agile and energetic, with a wicked vertical leap. She can't prop herself up on her own fat like a feline Jabba the Hutt, and she never meows at 4:00 a.m.

But she's not without her quirks. She drinks water slowly, methodically, constantly throughout the day, and she uses her litter box at least once an hour. She might be diabetic. And she's obsessed with toilets. She doesn't just drink the water, she licks the bowl. Fervently. We think the animal shelter didn't tell us everything.

Jersey hates being picked up, but she loves being petted -- in a weird way. When you pet her, she raises her backside up and sticks her tail straight into the air. The whole thing is so immediate, so taut and erect, it borders on obscene. I mean, I just want to relax on the couch and languidly pet my cat, and there's that pink butthole in my face.

Chester, of course, couldn't be more afraid of Jersey if she were a lumbering T-Rex. If he gets anywhere near her, she emits a low growl that sounds like it's coming from the apartment below, and Chester backs up slowly, not sure what to do with his eyes.

Jersey's growing on us, though. I have to remind Amy that even Hannah took about a year to warm up to her. So, in the warm and fuzzy department, Jersey is light-years ahead. She's already sleeping on our bed. But much to Amy's (and my) chagrin, she'll only sleep on my side.


  1. I do not appreciate the weight comparisons!

  2. Shug does the same thing with her back when you pet her...but not every time.

  3. Jeannie always positions her head by Josh and her butt by me on the couch. Why do I always get the butt?

  4. Oh, Jurisdiction doesn't belong in the toilet!

  5. If you want to be a psychological novelist and write about human beings, the best thing you can do is keep a pair of cats.

    -Aldous Huxley