The Tortie Gang

If you have ever had the privilege of being owned by a tortoiseshell cat, you know that they have ...um...distinct personalities. True, every cat has a distinct personality, but torties and their calico sisters are the true eccentrics of the cat world. Shy and nervous or independent or affectionate, they are quirky little critters to be sure.

Simone is a tortoiseshell manx, born with no tail. Shy and nervous when she arrived with her baby boy, Simon, we thought she would never be friendly enough to be adopted. Simon was also a manx; a little brown tabby who was friendly and affectionate, and he was adopted as soon as he was neutered at 8 weeks. It was about that time that Simone "escaped" from the room where they were isolated to keep Simon healthy, into the rest of the house. At first, like most scaredy cats, she disappeared. Then we began to see her often, and as time passed, she became quite bold. She "hung out" with our own four cats--otherwise known as "staff"--and the dozen or so foster cats who have the run of the house.

We don't exactly work with shy cats, as some rescuers do. We don't have time. We just let them be who they want to be, and astonishingly, they often gain confidence to the point where they become friendly and affectionate on their own. Maybe they learn it from the other cats, or maybe they just get lonely, but the transformation usually takes place. Most of the time it's gradual and happens slowly over the months or even years. Sometimes it happens suddenly, as if the cat decides, overnight, that she isn't afraid anymore. That's what happened with Simone. Simone has been with us for about three years, two as a shy cat and one as a friendly one. But just a couple of months ago, two little tortie sisters came to join us. Mary Elizabeth is short haired and full of mischief. She is on everything, into everything, and deaf to the words "no" and "down." (She does, however, hear cat food cans opening.) Her sister, Mary Rose, is long-haired and graceful with sort of a languid la-de-da attitude. She "helps" with everything. Reading? She's lounging on the book. Tying shoes? Shes attached to the ends of the laces. Using the computer? So is shhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. (Mary Rose, go play with your sister!) Because it was impossible to keep them from escaping from their assigned room, we mostly gave up and let them roam at large in the house. That's how Mary Elizabeth knocked the jar of spaghetti sauce off the TOP shelf in the pantry and broke it. We caught her just in time to save the salsa. It's how Mary Rose unraveled my knitting (it was a cat bed pattern I was trying, so it's her loss!) and it's how they met Simone and formed THE TORTIE GANG. Torties? Gangs? Can a crime spree be far behind?

Now, I don't know if cats really recognize other cats of the same color. I've seen pointed (Siamese-looking) kittens snuggle with a rabbit with similar markings, and orange kittens follow a big orange male cat, and tabby kittens drawn to strange tabby adults. Maybe they just share common interests. But the three torties started playing together, wrestling or sharing toys. Then they started hunting together. Hunting in our house, by the way, means stalking toys or breaking into unopened bags of cat food. But it sure is fun to see a bag with three little rear ends--one with a smooth tail, one with a fluffy one, and one with no tail at all--sticking out of the torn bag. Sometimes they go for the big game--canned cat food. Every kitty gets a spoonful of canned cat food twice a day, delivered to him on a tray in individual dishes. That’s how the Tortie Gang’s first caper came about.

It was the Great Breakfast Tray Raid. Because we often carry a dozen or more dishes at once, our trays are large, and we can’t just slip through the door with them. We have to open the door all the way, and the kitties in the room often take that opportunity to run out. We’re used to that, and a well-placed foot can block them just long enough for us to slip in. Once the food is inside the room, they would rather gather around the tray. ON the fateful morning of the raid, I had put the tray down, made sure that there was a head attached to each bowl, and turned the doorknob to leave. The door was jerked from my hand as three torties barged in, Simone at the lead. They all made for the tray of dishes, nudging the surprised diners out of the way. The poor, displaced cats looked at me as if to say “Aren’t you going to DO something?”

I picked Simone up and put her outside the door. Then I went for Mary Elizabeth, but when I opened the door to put her out, Simone burst in again. I put Mary Rose out next, thinking that with her long-haired, laid-back, ladylike manners, she would at least be a little slower. I was right. I managed to get two torties out before she scooted between my feet and returned to the now-empty dishes. The now-empty tray was the only thing that allowed me to get all three torties on the right side of the door, but they already had their plunder.

After the successful breakfast raid, they moved to bigger targets. The kitchen counters. Most cats try to get up on the counters now and then. Most of them respond to “NO,” or “get down!” and beat a hasty retreat, so I was a little surprised to see Mary Rose pawing at a box of corn muffins, poised almost at the edge of the counter. I said “GET DOWN!,”pointing toward the floor. She looked at me as if to say, “Oh, it’s you. Hi!” and gave the box another shove with her paw. “Mary Rose, NO!” I shouted. She didn’t even look up. I clapped my hands, and finally I pushed her from behind. Her front paws left the counter, but she gracefully twisted around to that the rest of her body didn’t follow. “Get Down,” I shouted. She looked at me quizzically, “What on earth do you want? Please make yourself clear.” About then, the box hit the floor and I went around the other side to pick it up. There was Simone, waiting for the food to land in front of her waiting jaws. Where was Mary Elizabeth? When the box hit the floor, she came out, stretching, from where she had been curled up in the corner behind the electric mixer. She jumped down, followed by Mary Rose, to join Simone in the feast.

Then the tortie kittens came. There were four of them. We put them in a small cage in the living room because they needed to be isolated until they could be tested and vaccinated for all the nasty stuff. The Tortie Gang took an immediate interest. All three of them sniffed around the cage. They reached in to play with the kittens through the bars, they stretched out along the side of it. Yes, they were recruiting. They probably expected to induct these innocent minors into the gang life, but by this time, we had adopted our “get tough” policy. The kittens went into the library with a handful of responsible adult cats, solid citizens all, who raised them to be lovely family pets.

But the tortie gang still tries to break in at breakfast time!