When I first laid eyes on Yeti I knew she was a born celebrity. I mean, just look at her. She was born into the glamorous life: we found her at a cat show; she was only a couple months old, and she had just won seven ribbons. 
My husband and I were on the prowl for a kitten to amuse and be companion to our kitty of almost two years, Peekaboo, who got separation anxiety whenever we left the house. I had already converted the hubby from a dog person to a cat person, knowing he only needed to experience the natural charm of a cat to fall in love. He was now a proud cat-papa, and eager for another, because the dynamics are so much fun when there are two fluffy little things to play together. While Peekaboo (a.k.a. Boo) is fantastically social on an individual scale, she doesn’t care for crowds. Yeti grew up in them. Boo gets freaked out by a lot of people; Yeti is very Zen about it. This is Boo:
How we arrived at Yeti’s name was backward and strange. We had it picked out long before we even arrived at the cat show or knew what breed we wanted. At night a few weeks before, we pulled up in a parking space outside a store, and I strained to identify the species that was sitting perfectly still, times five, in the vehicle adjacent to us, each facing forward in the seat. They weren’t human, and the light was very dim. “What on earth is that?” I mused. My hubby stared, perplexed, as I quizzically added, “Is it…a yeti?” We both snickered. “It’s a whole car full of yetis!” I revealed, eyes adjusting to the gloom. It turned out it was a carload of Weimaraners, their silvery coats looking rather specter-like in the shadows and moonlight. In the context, the shroud of mystery matched that of the legends of the Yeti and Sasquatch. “From now on,” I said, “our generic term for all critters is ‘yeti’ – they’re all yetis!” The Mister agreed.
So we showed up at the cat show, determined to find a kitten who fit the name. Like I said, it’s totally backward. Peekaboo came home nameless – well, with an awful shelter name that we immediately rejected – and we tried on a few dozen names with her until we found one she liked. It was the same name as her favorite game – and since she came running when we said it, she basically got to choose her own name. But this time, we had a name and no kitty…yet. Oh, there were lots of cuties there, but my eyes locked and zoomed in on our little glamour girl from afar, and it was all over. The breeder could sense our interest; we were helplessly transparent and agog. The little Yeti dozed in a lushly padded cage waiting for judging results in a few categories, and we had to wait until the end of the show to take possession. The first time I held her it was like trying to cradle a delicate cloud. She wasn’t cheap, as she was a show cat, but she wasn’t of a breeding quality (or price), her breeder said, because she had a small kink in the end of her tail. “She’s perfect to me,” I cooed in the baby’s face as she snoozed in my gentle embrace.
Off we raced to the lobby’s ATM. This wasn’t another shelter cat, my account observed. We rushed back to finalize our claim, collect our little angel and her prizes, say our goodbyes to her breeder and her division-winning mother and brother, and took her on her first car ride to a new home. The Mister, a.k.a. “PapaCat”, drove, and I got to hold her up to watch the world go by, watched her fight her sleepiness off by this stimulation, as well as watch the glee with which other vehicle denizens came all unstuck when they spotted her whilst waiting out traffic lights.
We were immediately enchanted by Yeti. She has an other-worldly aura about her, particularly in person (in cat?). You almost can’t believe that something so pristine, tiny, and perfectly beautiful could be alive, autonomous, and interacting with you in the everyday world. It’s rather like how one might react when suddenly finding oneself in company with a unicorn. She seems like she would have magical powers…she at least appears to have a magical effect on everyone who meets her. I’ve never seen an animal cause so many people so universally to melt in bliss and babble incoherently in delighted coos. Even dog people love her, partially because of her stunning beauty, and partially because she acts like she thinks she’s a dog, but that’s another story altogether. She’s also a born celebrity, but not a diva: more reclusive, like Greta Garbo. She’s a star.
As clingy as Peekaboo was, we worried if she would be jealous or even bully the newcomer. I guess we knew her well. She was immediately both curious and territorial, and challenged the innocent in a less-than-aggressive manner. She was tentative, I would say. Yeti held her own, the small fry. She was wise in the ways of the world already. Peekaboo made her feelings known; however, Yeti was undaunted. But each still had a few things to learn about the other as new adversaries, before they could evolve into friends, or at least allies.
Boo tried to trick Yeti a few times. Sometimes it didn’t work…
Sometimes it did…well, Yeti is still quite young yet at this point. She learned fast though.
Of course the camera came out, and as feisty and playful as little kittens always are, Yeti gave us lots of great material; actually both of them did. The occasion called for a new toy, of course, and it was put to good use, and Yeti showed her natural talent for charming an audience:
At the end of a very exciting day, energy levels began to wane….
The household finally quieted down and naps were had by all….
Goodnight!