Continuing December's theme of dog and cat extremes, Maine Coon Embracer, Joan W. of La Crescenta, CA, tells us about life with her big cats, Main Coons.
Our Maine Coon experience began early one Friday morning, when a big kitten, probably 4 months old, forcibly shouldered his way through our kitchen door while my husband was trying to go out. Arms full, and trying to keep the door closed with one foot, Russell was yelling “Wait! Stop! Aargh!” when I ran in. I grabbed the filthy kitten, “unfolded” him and discovered he was white with round black polka dots. Since we did not want to add another cat to our household, I made arrangements at work to bring him in on Monday so we could find him a home. Later, we washed him and got his shots. My husband and I spent the rest of the weekend gardening.
The kitten, whom we temporarily (and inevitably) named Spot, would sit under whatever bush we were pruning and, when we sat down, would run over, jump onto our laps and throw his arms around our necks. Very endearing to say the least.
To make a long story short, we ended up keeping Spot, who became my inseparable best pal. He gave everyone hugs and liked to climb into people’s arms where he would either go completely limp, like a bag of furry cement; or climb up to hang around their necks like a spotted stole. He’d jump into my arms, and would jump through a hoop. At night he’d curl up behind me and put his arms around either side of my neck and rest his chin on my cheek. At age 10, he was diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM)— an enlarged heart, which produces blood clots. Just 5 months later, a clot broke loose and he died very suddenly. We were heartbroken.
When asked what breed Spot was, we said he was a Spotted Rumpus. But actually, Spot was believed to be a Maine Coon mix: he trilled, was huge and friendly, very playful, followed me everywhere, had furry feet and a great tail.
By visiting cat shows, we learned that Maine Coons also tended to go limp when you picked them up, a trait we thought was typical of a Ragdoll. And we learned HCM is also common to Maine Coons. Fear of HCM prompted us to go to a breeder rather than adopt from a rescue—we wanted to be sure that our new family member was tested for the HCM gene, because we just couldn’t go through that kind of loss again. So that’s how we got our first registered Maine Coon, Heffalump.
Earlier in the year, we’d adopted a Bengal girl, named Kachin. We thought she’d be a playful nut—a successor to our old male Siamese whom we’d lost a few months before Spot. Turns out that Kachin was more of a lap leopard. But Heffalump was a play-monster! While he was very loving, he could not get enough of playing. Since he was wearing Kachin out, we decided to get another Maine Coon who could keep up with him. We couldn’t decide between two available kittens, so we got both.
So now we have 3 Maine Coon boys: Heffalump, aged 1-1/2 years, a bicolor blue smoke (grey) and white; and two 4-month old half-siblings: Chumley, a bicolor red tabby & white; and Smedley, and a white and cameo (pale red) “van” (white with colored “hat” and tail). Both Smedley and Chumley have one circular polka dot on their shoulder blades, so they are clearly of Spotted Rumpus heritage.
Probably the first thing you notice about them is their size. Maine Coons are big. Then the tail, which is long, full and magnificent. It’s said Maine Coons are sometimes called “The tail with the cat attached.” For me, though, it’s the huge paws with the furry toes that provide absolutely no traction. This last trait enhances the natural goofiness of Maine Coon males, as well as my boys’ natural klutziness. Attempted leaps onto a counter often fail at the launch, when their back feet slip out from under them, resulting in assorted splats and crashes.
They’re all really playful—Smedley most of all—but also very loving. They go from attacking anything that moves to purring limply in your arms in a heartbeat. They’re also really smart and have astonishingly acute hearing. They can hear the opening of the drawer with their feather toy from the other end of the house—and they can distinguish that drawer from the other seemingly identical drawers next to it.
Although Maine Coons are said to be generally terrestrial because they’re so big, they can and do get “big air” and will leap around until they’re exhausted. Heffalump also likes to play tug of war, and to drag around the house whoever is at the other end of the feather wand. A favorite game is to hide—either hunkered down within the pillows at the head of our bed or ducked down inside their cardboard airplane—and leap out and surprise us or each other.
Smedley and Chumley are pretty creative in entertaining themselves: They have a track ball toy—the type with the open track and the cardboard scratch pad in the center—but rather than just bat the ball around the track, they will put one paw into the track, and then run around in circles pushing the ball around in front of them. One day, Chumley and Smedley decided to chase each other—around my husband, who was working in our home office. Did they simply circle the chair on the floor? Of course not! They got up onto his lap, and—since he was sitting somewhat forward in his chair—they chased each other around and around his waist.
Despite their playful nature, they are not destructive; in fact, they’re very well behaved and have great dispositions. Like most cats, they like their routines. Heffalump likes to “help” my husband get ready in the morning—he attends him in the bathroom, sitting in one basin while Russell shaves in the other. After a shower, Heffalump jumps into the still-wet tub and sits for a while. Chumley and Smedley like to sleep under the covers and, though still small, take up an enormous amount of room; their innate limpness makes it really hard to dislodge them. Heffalump, meanwhile, immobilizes my feet for most of the night, except when he comes up for a stealthy midnight cuddle (he kneads my throat, while burying his nose into my neck: both uncomfortable and charming at the same time). I’m not sure why he sneaks up in the middle of the night for this: does he think I won’t recognize him?
What else can I say? They eat a lot. Their fur is not as easy-care as I’ve read. Heffalump’s fur tangles easily—in fact, often immediately after combing. Static is a problem, too. So if you get a Maine Coon, you need to get them used to daily combing. A small price to pay, though, for a life-long friend who will joyfully meet you at the door every evening, sit beside you while you read or putter, keep you warm at night… and maybe even throw his arms around your neck and give you a hug.
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