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Saturday, March 5, 2016

Would you believe .....

Many years ago, we had a cat named Pitoe. 
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Pitoe was a hybrid, his mother was a Persian, his father was a gigolo. The result was a very affectionate, white, long-haired cat with blue eyes.

Being an indoor cat, Pitoe was a pampered pussycat. He slept ‘till noon in a soft basket, had lots of toys, and was fed the best food. For exercise, and fresh air, he was walked a few times a week in the yard on a leash. Not that he did much walking. He preferred to roll around in the sun on the driveway, or smell the flowers of his favorite shrub (I think it might have been catnip).

One morning I went to the garage and saw a small mouse sitting on the front tire of my car. I scooped up the little thing and holding it cupped in both hands, I went inside to show Pitoe. Just to show him, mind you, nothing else.

OMG was that a mistake. When I opened my hands so Pitoe could peer inside, he took off like a bat from hell. He literally sprinted from the kitchen, dashed through the living room, only to disappear to my bedroom, where I found him hiding under my bed.

Okay, so Pitoe suffered from musophobia.

If you think that’s bad, it gets better.

Meet Gabriel ...
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Gabriel is a ragdoll, and he suffers from ichthyophobia, which is fear of fish. Seriously, we have a hexagon aquarium with ten goldfish, and it sends poor Gabe into a flat spin. While Holly likes to sit on a chair and watch the fishes, Gabriel won’t go near them.

Actually, I must correct myself. Yesterday, for some reason, Gabriel scraped all his courage together and jumped on the chair near the aquarium. His decision to face his fear only lasted seconds. As he sat in front of the glass tank, he did not only look at the fishes, several fishes came to look at him, and that was too much for Gabe. He bolted off the chair and went into hiding.

Finally, meet Holly.
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Holly is also a product of a Ragdoll who met a gigolo. She’s a happy go lucky girl, who – although the youngest – rules the roost. She has one weakness though ... she suffers from a severe case of ornithophobia, fear of birds.

You would think that cats are fascinated by birds, love them even, but apparently Holly is the exception.

My neighbors across the hall recently acquired a bird, you see. A little parrot to be more specific. The bird doesn’t talk yet, he peeps, or tweets, whatever you want to call it, and Holly doesn’t like it one single bit.
She’s alright with the calls of the bird while she’s inside, but the other day were walking up and down the corridor – for her daily exercise – when she heard the bird screech and she panicked.

As fast as her little legs would carry her she set a new a new record in the 50 meter dash, pushed open the door of our condo with her head, and went into hiding in the bathroom.

Would you believe that cats can suffer from phobias? You bet they do.

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