Morgan is the youngest cat at 3-1/2 years old. She’s not normal. It’s not because she has only one eye. It’s because she’s a people cat.
I don’t have people-friendly cats. I can take a perfectly normal cat and within a year or two they avoid people. My take is that they like me better. Can’t say I blame them. I’m nicer than most people. Have you ever tasted my tuna martini? With a catnip twist?
There is a group psychology thing that goes on with cats. Just like birds, when a flock is eating my superb, high-quality sunflower seeds, one little junco will see a leaf move and fly off. In unison they all fly off including the large squawky jays.
My cats do not “fly off.” They gallop or trot, screeching to a halt or slamming into a wall. It’s not graceful.
A few years ago we couldn’t hear the front doorbell if we were in the screened porch. We got a hunkin’ loud doorbell. It sounds like Big Ben. You can hear it in London (across the pond). Scares the bejesus out of me. You can imagine how the cats react.
Mollie and Hazel both fly up the stairs and under the bed. You never know. It could be Big Foot. Or an axe murder targeting sweet cats. I never said they were guard cats.
Morgan is the odd cat out. Just like the birds, she will fly up the stairs when they do, sometimes leaping over them but she doesn’t do it because the doorbell rang.
She needs to know what Big Foot or an axe murderer looks like. On the top landing she turns around and peers.
Nobody peers like a one-eyed cat. There are glass side windows next to the front door. She will sail down the steps to further investigate. She stays a safe distance just in case a speedy exit is required (like if the intruder is a BIG Doberman) but if it’s just a human she will wait.
Eventually she will come out and say hi. She will give a wink, then settle back in her chair like nothing happened. In the meantime the other two are still hunkering.