I firmly believe that in a past life, Marley was a dog. As a kitten he had that "doyouloveme? 'CauseIloveyou. ButIloveyoumorethanyouloveme. That'sokay.Iloveyou. IloveyouTHISMUCH" way that dogs have. He was a very excited kitty. He has calmed down enough that he has learned that it's okay to just walk, instead of galloping around.
He also has no grace to speak of. He is, what I like to call, a flopper. Why sit, when you can flop? In fact, I once watched him stand still, put all his paws as close as possible together, and then he just leant over until he flopped onto his side. Actually, he still does that. It is the best way to find the most comfortable place to sleep. I know that when he flops down next to me instead of sitting that it's his bedtime.
He's very territorial about me. I am his human. Not long after I bought him and Owen home I came home from work to see Owen waiting for me. Marley must have heard me say Hi to Owen, and the next thing I know Marley comes tearing out of the bedroom and head butted Owen out of the way. And a few times, he has shown his displeasure at Owen getting pats by jumping on the bed and going to the toilet. One memorable time he jumped on the bed, came said Hi to me, and since I was patting Owen and couldn't give Marles my full attention he urinated on me in bed. Oh, that was a fun evening I can tell you. Luckily for everyone involved - especially me - he has stopped doing this. This is mostly because I would completely ignore him after his little urine-tantrum, and being ignored is the worst thing ever.
I think Marley has me whipped.
Marley and I fight a lot. We've had many stern words, and not all the sternness has been from me. He has been known to hit me, and when the doctors thought I had cat scratch fever, he was the main suspect. I wonder though if I talk in my sleep. Marles is pretty good when I'm in bed, but at least once a night he wakes me up by licking my nose. Which, it's never a good thing to have cat breath that close to your olfactory senses. And once I'm awake we have a fight over who has ownership of the pillow. I've tried moving across the bed towards the other pillow, but then he wants that one as well. And yes, I realise that this could be stopped easily by not letting them in the bedroom, but there's nothing nicer than having a cat curled up next to you. But the reason I think I talk in my sleep is when I'm quiet in bed he will just lie there. If I say something, he'll come up closer, so he can chat as well.
Marley hasn't changed his look much from when he was a kitten. The photos don't do it justice, but he still has a lot of 'kitten face' still.
Owen in a past life, was a cat. Ever since he was a kitten he had that "Look, I respect you. I like that you feed me. But that's as far as our relationship goes. You stay on your side of the lounge, and I'll stay on mine. In fact, I don't want you even to look at me. I need my space." attitude down.
I'm fairly sure he was traumatised at the vets where I bought him. He's never been a people person and is quite fearful of...everything. Like ants. And doorways. And for one interesting week he was deathly afraid of curtains. After I bought him home I didn't see him for two weeks. He stayed under the bed and only came out in times of emergencies - like needing to eat. I finally trained him to like me - I wouldn't feed him until he came up to me to say "hello" and get a pat. It took some doing and a lot of patience but it worked. In fact, it worked TOO well. If I've come home from work and I desperately need a shower, I'll let the boys inside and put their food down, and go have a shower. Owen will sit just outside the shower curtain (how just outside?? Sometimes his tail ends up wet) until I'm out, and once I've given him a pet he'll run off to eat. I have a horrible feeling that this is another reason why he loses so much weight when I'm away and someone else needs to feed them.
Where I am Marley's human, Owen is my cat. He knows his place in the pecking order, and not once has he tried to get between Marley and me. I find it sad, yet cute. When I let them out after breakfast, if I have a day off Owen comes to the door 10 minutes later when he knows Marles won't be around and just follows me around the house.
Owen has never sat on my lap. He came close once when I was watching an Ice Hockey game on TV, but even then he was on the lounge next to me. Every now and then he can see him thinking about being a lap cat, but he just can't do it. Other than for ice hockey, he won't even sit on the lounge if I'm on it. He'll sit at my feet, but that's it. In the same way, it is a very VERY rare day that he will sleep on the bed if I am residing in it. It's so rare, that when he does, I invariably kick him in the head at some stage during the night. Y'see, as a non-lap cat, he will only sleep at the very foot of the bed. There's no curling up with a human involved there. Although, if I've been away, for the next two nights (and for only two nights), I will have Marley on one side of me, and Owen on the other. Which pretty much means I am trapped
He is a cat with issues. (But, doesn't everyone have a cat like that??)
Both cats have an unhealthy fear of everyone who isn't me. I have had friends over for marathon coffee drinking sessions, and I'll know that the boys are inside, but they won't come out of their hiding spots until they hear the person's car drive away. They won't go to the toilet, they won't eat, they won't drink water no matter how hot it is, because the person who isn't me might see them. This is another reason why Owen loses weight when I go away.
Their names have always made my friends laugh. They think that I'm a terrible namer, and this is mostly due to me once having a cat who I called Jeff.I just like non-catlike names. And, Jeff did suit the feline in question.
Marley was always going to be Marley, as I wanted a black cat called that. And I know that he's not completely black, but it works. He also goes by the names Marlbro, Marles and Marleau.
Owen chose his name. I wanted to call him either Cheecho or Schaefer, but these names had him running in the opposite direction. Eventually, I ended up calling out the entire past and (at the time) present line-up of the San Jose Sharks. The name Owen was the only one that turned his head to look at me. So he and I have reached a compromise. I call him Owen out loud, and in my head I call him by his full name of Owen Nolan Schaefaer. He also goes by O, Obi (short of 'my boy Owen'. I know, it doesn't make sense. Work with me here.) and on one memorable occasion where he gave me the Look Of Disdain Obi-Wen Kenarbi. He is not - I repeat, NOT- named after Owen Wilson like most people seem to think. He is a hockey cat, not a movie cat.
I've just realised I haven't got a cat icon. I need to rectify this.
Photos of them