Feral Cat Fridays: Sherman Marches In
If anyone has any questions about the inheritance of feline personality, let me introduce Sherman as the first exhibit for the defense. Sherman was a child of Boots—you see them together here, surveying their domain and staring down intruders.
Boots came to the colony as an adult. She was famous for her domineering behavior and Sherman took after her mother. Sherman was a tiny kitten roaming the yard like a Sherman tank, completely unbothered by whatever or whoever might be in her way.
We could have named her Moses for the way the sea of cats parted to let her through, but several other kittens of her generation were being named after military figures. The name Sherman immediately came to mind.
After being trapped and spayed Sherman matured and became more docile but she always kept her distance. She would come close to us for a spoonful of wet food, as in the photo above, but that was as close as we could come. We became well acquainted with her at feeding time.
We came to like Sherman quite a lot and enjoyed watching her endearing efforts to rule the world through observation and sheer will power. She hung on to her “what’s going on out there?” kitten personality throughout her adult life.
That last photo is beyond-words precious. I will say that the look in her eye in that last photo somewhat resembles the look in her mother’s eyes in the first.
That photo of Sherman in the flower pot has always been on of my favorites. Loretta was out on the deck that afternoon and just happened to catch her at the perfect moment. I hadn’t noticed the similarity in the look of Sherman’s and Boots’ eyes until you mentioned it but they do have the same intent “what are you up to” look, don’t they? That look is an accurate reflection of their very similar personalities, although Sherman was a bit more domesticated than Boots.