When Byron crossed the rainbow bridge, we knew the fastest way to fill the holes in our hearts was to adopt a new kitten, another creature into which we could pour our love. It wasn’t long before we started applying to rescues, but with the pandemic in full swing, people had been snatching up all the pets from both shelters and breeders alike. Heather eventually found a rescue organization in Smith’s Falls with a goofy looking cat available for adoption, so we made an appointment to meet him as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, he remained a perpetual loaf in a dark corner during all the hours we stayed. Without being able to interact and physically check his condition, we decided not to take the chance. A few other kittens were also wandering around this modest country house-cum-cat-gym, including one with dilute calico colours that reminded me so much of Dolly. She rolled onto one side to present her belly as soon as I started petting her, and I knew she was the one right then.
The day we met her, without any idea of what to call her. She wasn’t listed on the shelter’s website because she wasn’t yet old enough for the surgeries required for adoption.
And her namesake, Countess Liliana Vess. Even though she’s a master necromancer and healer, her use of mana strictly remains in the black domain, which seemed quite fitting for Lili’s mysterious nature.
The inspiration I get for pet names usually comes from creative influences or personal heroes, but this time we went with a character from the Magic: The Gathering universe. It’s a hobby Heather and I have shared for so long (and into which we’ve poured an embarrassing amount of money) that it felt appropriate to have a name related to something we both enjoyed. And since we tend to think of our cats as royalty in some way — especially since they treat us like furniture — it also made sense to name her after a person of nobility.
There’s no way anyone could mistake her for Dolly though. She’s the smallest cat I’ve ever owned, likely because she’s not motivated by food in any way. With Dolly and Byron, it would be a constant battle to keep them off the counters. Cooking any kind of meat would have them begging at my feet, screaming to get my attention. Dolly would even knock utensils out of my hand if I wasn’t paying attention. She’d eat flies, spiders, beetles, while Byron would somehow consume foam balls, rubber bands, objects that were both inanimate and inedible. Lily, on the other hand, is only interested in her regular meals and the occasional dry treat. Not bacon, sushi, butter, or any other form of kitty kryptonite.
Our after-dinner ritual (the start of which is signalled by the sound of dishes being put away), when she climbs on me for some ear rubs or time with the de-shedding brush. She prefers it when I stiffen an arm to make a guardrail for her lap-bed; otherwise, she’ll keep walking loops and refuse to get settled.
I like to think that the warm purring against my belly aids in digestion, so it works out for us both.
Her personality couldn’t be more different either, as she’s quite aloof and independent compared to how clingy Dolly was. Her favourite place to sleep has always been under the bed, so we usually don’t see her for most of the day. She’s so shy that she’ll hide there the entire time guests are over, which is why Heather and I are the only ones who truly know her and how affectionate she can be…when she’s in the mood. And unlike all my other cats, who are accustomed to being picked up and cradled like a baby several times a day, the only way she accepts being held is if I’m sitting with my knees up, with her lying back against my thighs so she can get both her chest and belly rubbed.
When she wants attention, she’ll walk into the room and demand it from me with piercing meows, or flop onto her side with an exaggerated stretch (what I call “giving me a sweet roll”). It’s a ritual she’ll repeat a few times, with a huff thrown in every now and then to let me know her displeasure, if I’m not giving the attention fast enough.
It comes as no surprise that she gets along with Percy, since he has a habit of grooming everyone — regardless of size or species — as if they’re a little sibling. Still, a dominant streak will run through him every now and then, usually manifesting as an attempt to clamp onto her scruff and mounting her like he’s in heat. We don’t mind his attempts to chase her since he’s getting rather tubby, while we suspect she’ll always remain the size of a kitten.
Admittedly, I’m still getting used to her reclusiveness, especially compared to my previous cats, who all spent the majority of their time in my presence. I always appreciate having a feline within arms-length so I can touch them whenever I need a quick hit of dopamine, which means making sure there are always comfortable nests for them nearby. With Lili though, she’s always the one to initiate, and interactions are decidedly on her terms. As soon as she’s had enough of me, she’ll quickly leave and disappear until she’s craving attention again. Combined with my abandonment issues, it means I never have the heart to get up or move once she’s decided to sleep on me. Fortunately, Heather doesn’t mind being the bad guy, and will pick her up so I can remain the favourite parent.