I am reading Temple Grandin's newest book, Animals in Translation. Grandin is an expert in the management of large animal behavior, and she also has autism. She is the author of several books about her experience of autism, all of which are fascinating.
Animals in Translation is equally fascinating and its one of those books that make you see things in a new light. Reading it, I have several times gotten that little mental frisson that happens when your view of the world gets shifted a bit.
One of the statements she makes that is relevant to the old Cattie's Blog is that marmalade cats are more fearful, but also more loving, than other colors of cats. I don't know if this is a valid observation overall, but it certainly matches with my personal experience of them. One of the most freakishly stressed-out cats I ever met was an orange stripe who would fall off of the window sill in anxiety anytime there was the slightest noise or movement in the room she was in.
With my boys, Julius and Kelty, this also is true. They are very close in age, currently roughly the same in size, and both are from a shelter environment. The similarities stop there, though. From the very instant I brought each of them home, they exhibited quite different personalities. Kelty, a grey tabby, is a rock star. Nothing fazes him--not noise, new people, sudden movement, nothing. He is sleek and long, and will be a very large, tall animal when full-grown. He is laid-back and confident, and clever. I often feel that he is way too cool for me, like he's the high school jock born to the nerds that high school jocks beat up. (And the downside to his confident personality is his tendency to bully, described in previous posts.)
Meanwhile, Julius, an orange tabby, is scared much of the time. When I got him home, he went immediately under the bed and might still be there had we not finally forced him out. Walking rapidly in his direction leads to an equally rapid disappearance, as do loud noises, new people, and new objects. But he is also the one who follows me around and mews for attention. He is a kneader and a drooler. (Yum!) He is roly-poly and clumsy. He won't get too much bigger, I don't believe, at least in the vertical dimension. He's really quite out-manned (out-kittened?) by Kelty, who is smarter, faster and more agile. They get along great, though, which proves to me that cats are better than people. If the guys were human siblings, Kelty wouldn't give Jules the time of day, at least in public.
Grandin talks about juvenile animal play, as well, stating that in an unbalanced relationship such as J and K's, the stronger animal will "throw" the game to allow the other to win at times. I have seen this in their play and this does seem to help their relationship. As Grandin says, no one will keep playing an opponent who always wins.
I strongly recommend Grandin's books for folks that are interested in a unique take on animal behavior, autism, and normal brain function.
Animals in Translation is equally fascinating and its one of those books that make you see things in a new light. Reading it, I have several times gotten that little mental frisson that happens when your view of the world gets shifted a bit.
One of the statements she makes that is relevant to the old Cattie's Blog is that marmalade cats are more fearful, but also more loving, than other colors of cats. I don't know if this is a valid observation overall, but it certainly matches with my personal experience of them. One of the most freakishly stressed-out cats I ever met was an orange stripe who would fall off of the window sill in anxiety anytime there was the slightest noise or movement in the room she was in.
With my boys, Julius and Kelty, this also is true. They are very close in age, currently roughly the same in size, and both are from a shelter environment. The similarities stop there, though. From the very instant I brought each of them home, they exhibited quite different personalities. Kelty, a grey tabby, is a rock star. Nothing fazes him--not noise, new people, sudden movement, nothing. He is sleek and long, and will be a very large, tall animal when full-grown. He is laid-back and confident, and clever. I often feel that he is way too cool for me, like he's the high school jock born to the nerds that high school jocks beat up. (And the downside to his confident personality is his tendency to bully, described in previous posts.)
Meanwhile, Julius, an orange tabby, is scared much of the time. When I got him home, he went immediately under the bed and might still be there had we not finally forced him out. Walking rapidly in his direction leads to an equally rapid disappearance, as do loud noises, new people, and new objects. But he is also the one who follows me around and mews for attention. He is a kneader and a drooler. (Yum!) He is roly-poly and clumsy. He won't get too much bigger, I don't believe, at least in the vertical dimension. He's really quite out-manned (out-kittened?) by Kelty, who is smarter, faster and more agile. They get along great, though, which proves to me that cats are better than people. If the guys were human siblings, Kelty wouldn't give Jules the time of day, at least in public.
Grandin talks about juvenile animal play, as well, stating that in an unbalanced relationship such as J and K's, the stronger animal will "throw" the game to allow the other to win at times. I have seen this in their play and this does seem to help their relationship. As Grandin says, no one will keep playing an opponent who always wins.
I strongly recommend Grandin's books for folks that are interested in a unique take on animal behavior, autism, and normal brain function.
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