Rosie was our second addition to the family and is now officially the "Daddy" figure to the little ones. He was teeny when we first got him, about 6 weeks old which is too young really. The lady who sold him to us told us he was a girl (hence the name!) and was 7 weeks old, but when she told me his birthdate I realised she was a week out.
When we got him home he could barely wash without falling over and his purr was a bit pathetic too. We kept him in our bedroom for the first week to keep him from the clutches of Jessie and he had a lovely time hiding under the duvet and between the pillows. The first time he saw his litter box he got in it and started eating the litter. Then he discovered that it tasted nasty so he spat it out and cried. 30 seconds later he ate some more and so the routine went on for a few minutes. He couldn't jump onto the bed so used to launch himself at the duvet and claw his way up, emerging on top of the bed victorious.
Jessie was not very keen on Rosie and regarded him with disdain, sometimes approaching to wallop Rosie on the nose. Rosie didn't seem that bothered however and as time wore on he made approaches to Jessie for friendship which were firmly rebuffed!
Rosie stayed upstairs in our house for quite a while, mainly, because he was too small to negotiate our steep stairs and he soon discovered that the best place to sit was under the desk in the spare room where he could bite Stu's toes as he worked. In fact, he loved being in the office so much he would curl up on our laps under the desks as we worked or would sit on our keyboards to stop us from working.
Rosie is now 2 and although he looks very wise I am pretty sure he is quite dumb. He has grown into a big cat and is very handsome and proud. He is lovely with the little cats and is always washing them and play-fighting with them. He still hasn't cracked Jessie's hard outer shell though as Jessie remains steadfastly indifferent.
When we got him home he could barely wash without falling over and his purr was a bit pathetic too. We kept him in our bedroom for the first week to keep him from the clutches of Jessie and he had a lovely time hiding under the duvet and between the pillows. The first time he saw his litter box he got in it and started eating the litter. Then he discovered that it tasted nasty so he spat it out and cried. 30 seconds later he ate some more and so the routine went on for a few minutes. He couldn't jump onto the bed so used to launch himself at the duvet and claw his way up, emerging on top of the bed victorious.
Jessie was not very keen on Rosie and regarded him with disdain, sometimes approaching to wallop Rosie on the nose. Rosie didn't seem that bothered however and as time wore on he made approaches to Jessie for friendship which were firmly rebuffed!
Rosie stayed upstairs in our house for quite a while, mainly, because he was too small to negotiate our steep stairs and he soon discovered that the best place to sit was under the desk in the spare room where he could bite Stu's toes as he worked. In fact, he loved being in the office so much he would curl up on our laps under the desks as we worked or would sit on our keyboards to stop us from working.
Rosie is now 2 and although he looks very wise I am pretty sure he is quite dumb. He has grown into a big cat and is very handsome and proud. He is lovely with the little cats and is always washing them and play-fighting with them. He still hasn't cracked Jessie's hard outer shell though as Jessie remains steadfastly indifferent.
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