There’s a new actor on the stage, and his name is Gentle Ben.
He is appropriately named. The first thing I said was “Man! That’s a big cat!” He’s not at all overweight, but he’s a solid, muscular, big-boned beast. He’s a liver-grey tabby, with gorgeous green eyes and a spotted belly.
He’s very friendly. Sit on the floor, and he headbutts your hands and demands petting. He’s not really a climb-into-your-lap cat, but very much a pet-me-damnit cat. We met several very nice cats at the shelter, but Ben came up to the front of the cage right away, nuzzled everybody, played with a catnip mouse, then fell off a table and got lost in the play tube thing. Ah. Big, friendly, enthusiastic, good with other cats, not terribly bright–obviously he was made for us. We watched him exit the tube, butt first, with an expression of bafflement on his big face, and said “Okay, where do we sign?”
His history is unknown–he was obviously owned and socialized at one point, since he came in neutered, and he has faint collar-creases on his fur–but was a stray when he was picked up. He got loose in the rescuer’s hatchback and hid, and when the volunteers came out to find him, he popped out and gave her a bear hug, hence the name.
While generally I name cats after gods–well, Gentle Ben looks like a pretty appropriate name. Hopefully the law of feline perversity will not require him to turn into a regular grizzly.
He’s currently hangin’ out in the spare room–we wanted to give him an hour or two to collect himself after all the excitement and new surroundings. Then I’ll take a book in and see if he wants some company.
Athena currently believes that we are seriously deranged, but she’ll get over it, I’m sure. We picked her up to snuggle her, and she was only interested in getting back down so she could watch the crack under the door in case it got any ideas.