My father was the same way. He didn’t hate cats, but when one was given to us I don’t think he really wanted it - especially when it cried constantly the first night. Daddy liked his booze now and then, and that night when we were in bed, we heard him saying ‘I’m going to flush that cat down the toilet if he doesn’t shut up!’
Fifteen minutes later we heard, “Here kitty kitty; come here and let me pet your pumpkin head!”
After that, the cat was HIS for the next 15 years; he worried over it constantly - and I think he was more worried when that cat didn’t come home at night, than when we kids didn’t ;-)
She was expected to earn her keep by keeping the barn rodent free, which she usually did. Dad had a soft heart and gave her extra food in the winter and, of course, we boys would always manage to squirt a little warm milk in her mouth when we were milking the cows.
Of course, she would come scratching at the front door sometimes, especially in the winter. We could bring her in, feed her, pet her and even cuddle up with her as long as it was an hour or less. Then it was back out the door where she found her way to the barn and her less warm bed of grain sacks.
Fast forward a generation and my youngest daughter and family have a Chartreaux mix named Mia. Sweet cat, lets the grandsons pull her tail and worse. When she's had enough, she simply walks away and hides. They treat her a little more gently when she returns, for awhile.
Daughter gets a job promotion and the family gets transferred to Japan for a posting. Mom and Dad agree to adopt Mia for the duration.
She arrives last year on a brisk November day. First night, she isn't happy about her cross-country flight. Mom isn't even sure she likes cats as she grew up a dog person. I just open the transport cage, send Mom to bed and head there myself. 20 minutes later, Mia finds he way out of the cage and curls up in the bed to sleep at Mom's feet. She has a new favorite person less than 24 hours after leaving her old family in a shipping crate.
The old softy!
Since my last post, the tom rounded up his adopted kitties from the neighbors’ yards making sure they were settled on our porch for the night. They’re too skittish to follow him into the house but it won’t be long. Hubby made sure their bowl was full and they’re watching me through the window. Cute little faces.