Macbeth’s Story
posted in Cat Stories |It’s quite a while since I had a cat story to tell, so it’s about time I told you about Macbeth.
When we bought our new home ‘Grassy Bottom’ in February 2014 Macbeth was already well established in the local area. A fully grown, completely feral tom cat, he would pass through the garden meowing loudly at nothing in particular.
I named him Macbeth because he bore a passing resemblance to a Scottish Wild Cat, looked like he drank Irn Bru and ate porridge for breakfast. You could tell just by looking at him you didn’t mess with Macbeth.
Once Leonard realised he couldn’t chase him away the two of them came to an understanding as you can see here.
Being the soft touch that I am I fed him, hoping that I might win his trust, and make his life a little easier, but he was having none of it.
As recently as the beginning of this year we really hadn’t made any progress. Any attempt to stroke him even a little was still met with hissing and growling.
Then another cat appeared on the scene.
Leonard had passed away by this time and after a bit of a shaky start the little black cat Poppy was now living with us. She hated Macbeth but then Poppy just hates other cats full stop.
The other cat, a neutered male I christened Grayson, is a story for another day, but let’s just say he and Macbeth hate each other with a passion.
Whenever they get too close there is a loud commotion, it sounds like someone’s trying to kill both of them, but it’s only one of them making all the noise and that’s not Macbeth. He’s obviously the strong silent type.
In fact 99% of the time there’s no physical contact, just a lot of posturing, in other words ‘handbags at dawn’. (sorry about the quality of that photo, but I took it through the kitchen window)
Anyway, Grayson has the happiest temperament of any cat I have ever known and loves nothing better than being cuddled or rolling on his back and having his tummy tickled.
Over the weeks Macbeth has observed this domestic feline behaviour from one of his favourite places in the bottom of the hedge.
Perhaps it’s coincidence, I don’t know, but in the last few weeks Macbeth’s behaviour has certainly mellowed. I’ve been trying to ‘tame’ him for 3 years, and now he seems to be learning by observing another cat, though why he couldn’t have learnt from Leonard 3 years ago I have no idea.
Anyway, I can now stroke his back whilst he’s eating, but any attempt to stroke him at another time is still met with hissing. He even gently head butts my hand if I’m not filling his dish up quickly enough and the other day he actually rubbed round my legs like a real pet cat. I’m not sure but I even think I’ve heard him purr. Another ‘first’.
Don’t get me wrong, he’ll never be ‘domesticated’ but he’s had a raw deal in life and it’s not his fault he’s ended up like this so the least I can do is try to help and encourage him.
If he’d been dealt a better hand his life could have been very different, but you can only play the cards you are given and he’s just doing his best. At the end of the day he’s just like any other cat, all he wants is a full stomach and somewhere safe and warm to lay his head,
just another little trick he’s picked up from Grayson in the last few weeks.
Whatever the future holds for him, he’ll always be my Macbeth.
