Acquired: Other (stray, given cat by friend etc.)
Posted Mar 11, 2015
Tucker is, well....Tucker is in that category you just have to call special.
I looked out my window one rainy day and saw him sitting just outside my window on the heat pump. About an inch of his tail had been cut off, and he was bleeding.
I went out... he was a young kitten then, retrieved him, and bandaged his tail.
And we kept him. For that rescue, he's been loyal to me ever since.
He likes to lick my hand. I let him, but, to be honest, his breath STINKS more than any cat I've ever met.
Tucker is endearing, like a special-needs child. He lacks social graces, occasionally pees where he shouldn't in our bedroom closet on our clothes item left on the floor. He just feels obligated to mark them that way. Otherwise he pretty faithfully uses the cat litter. Lesson is, keep the clothes off the floor!
Another funny thing about him is he doesn't know how to cover up his poop.
From inside the litter, he'll reach out to the floor and paw at it or the air, going through the motions, but accomplishing nothing.
We have two cats, and it's interesting to contrast them. They both look similar, but they are so very different. Only Tucker is a Mau.
He's a lap cat. I no sooner sit down, and he's in my lap. He's insistent. He wants my lap when he wants it, and the computer laptop will just have to understand.
If he wishes to lay where Thomas is lying, he'll just go over and expect Thomas to move. He's not mean about it. It's as though Thomas, who is much more socially adroit, and bigger, just knows he has to yield because that's what big brothers do.
Tucker is territorial. He will sleep all night by himself in his favorite perch on the top back of the sofa.
He's funny too, and good at playing soccer with anything on the floor that will roll. He's extremely quick. However, he doesn't like to play with something dangled quite so much as our other cat. He's picky at his playing. If he's not interested, there's not much you can do.
When company comes, Tucker is nowhere to be found. He simply doesn't exist. Our frequent guests who hear us talk about him believe we are lying. There are very few individuals who receive Tucker's stamp of approval.
But it's limited to a token rub on the leg before he disinterestedly finds a perch from which to observe.
He will sit next to my wife or in her lap, or between her legs on the recliner. But as soon as I enter the room and sit, Tucker is in MY lap. I am his, and he owns me.