Topic: coping
This weekend, Ron and I acquired two precious little kittens. Brothers--we think they are brothers. At least they are siblings.
As different as daylight and dark. In fact, we could have named the grey one Night and the yellow one Sunshine. Our 9-year-old neighbor had different ideas, and we liked hers. Even before she saw them, just from the description, she decided they should be Thunder and Light'ning.
I spent the weekend studying them, sharing them with the neighbors, attending to their needs.
Although, when our kids were young, we had several litters of kittens and puppies both, I suppose I had less time for them back then than I do now. Or maybe I've just become more observant. At any rate, I was amazed at the difference in the personalities of these sweet creatures.
Sunshine, who looks like a tiger, is the very pro-active one. Or impulsive, depending on how you look at things from a kitten's point of view. The fluffy grey one, Thunder, seems to accomplish just as much as Sunshine. Yet Thunder sits back and watches to see how Sunshine approaches things before Thunder joins in.
At one point, Sunshine was even bossy. Crying to the top of his voice, leading me to believe something was wrong. Not in the least, I discovered. He was calling his brother to get out of his bed and come eat.
Don't tell the cat experts--these are farm cats. We are keeping them outdoors by choice. I'm thinking, as I watch them develop, perhaps I will examine their individual traits. In my old age, I'm leaning more toward being a Thunder. Of course, the way I see it, Thunder has nothing wrong with his voice. He's just making choices that aren't quite as frisky. Perhaps with more contemplation than his brother--who knows? And maybe I should add, who cares?
