Ricky has had a while to get used to things, and he’s taken well to a few guys. Not so much with women, though I’ve no idea based on evidence why other than his remaining skittishness around Mom.
But even with me sudden motion will make him nervous, though he recovers quickly and is quite forgiving.
He’ll even let me comb mats of of his ample fur with a shedding tool if I do it right. And boy, does he get mats! Big ol’Fluffy!
I say ol’Fluffy, as we’ve found out that he, like our even older female, Gorgeous, is older than their records had previously recorded. We at first thought that both Gorgeous and Ricky were about Eccles’ age, roughly six years by now. But Gorgeous isn’t that active, and tires easily. She doesn’t like to play, and even hides when Eccles tries to play with her.
We found out during her most recent vets visit that she’s at least two times Eccles age, with Ricky slightly younger, but both still older than Eccles by far. Still, of our two older cats, Ricky is the most active, and loves to chase the Red Dot of a laser pointer.
There are times at night when he and Eccles get the zoomies – chase each other through the house at top speed, in the dark with their ninja night vision, only sometimes knocking stuff over.
His Big Fluffy Highness has taken to the adorable habit, also seen in Old Rockykins before he passed, of kneading sheets, covers, and blankets on the bed, as well as peoples’ chests, like preparing dough for bread before it goes into the oven, with his paws.
Ricky is very neat about his personal hygiene, but he transfers his messiness to the litter box, sometimes taking several full minutes, or so it seems, to cover his leavings with litter before I intervene and dispose of it properly.
There’s a thing about Ricky and Eccles: Their relationship is very much like that of Eccles and Old Rockykins, and I wonder how well Eccles can tell the difference.
I say that because for a while after Rocky passed, Eccles would wander the house as though looking for his friend of three far-too-short years. To this day he carries a battery-powered cat toy with a fake raccoon tail around in his mouth. He mews while dragging it around as though trying to say something in cat-speak to it. And he almost never mews unless distressed.
I get the feeling he does know Ricky from Rocky, but that’s my own limited understanding speaking. I can’t get inside Eccles’ head and know his thoughts with confidence, much less certainty.