Deaf Cats Have More Fun

Being a pampered housecat is a wonderful thing, especially after being rescued from the pound. Beau, a 5-year old, pure white Turkish Angora mix with one gold and one blue eye, was born profoundly deaf. This beautiful cat and his sister, Amber was both given to the local pound by former owners in Georgia, when they were just kittens, after being declawed. They were saved from euthanasia by a kind couple, who run a cat fostering service. Amber and Beau grew up for over a year at their home, as they rescued other cats and took good care of them all. Three years ago, I decided to get one more cat, and went to Pet Finder to find one. There, I found Beau's page, he was “special needs,” it said, being that he was deaf and had a healed broken hip from the abusive first owners, in kittenhood. It didn't hinder him in any way, the ad said, and that he needs someone who could be there all the time. As a home agent for my company that was not a problem, so I gladly called the service and told them to bring him to me.

It was a shame to break up two siblings; both cats are deaf, white and were inseparable. But, the foster home loved Amber so much, that she stayed with them, and the nice man drove all the way from their current home in Tennessee to bring Beau to the pet service. After a vet check and a clean bill of health, Beau was brought to me. Here was this gorgeous, long haired kitty, scared and wondering where his adopted family was. Having never owned a deaf cat before, I looked up information on the internet on how best to take care of him. With time and practice, Beau and I learned our own brand of human-cat communication. I use my hands to get his attention, and mouth words at him, and he winks in response. If he's across the room and I need his attention, I stomp once on the floor. The vibration gets him to look my way and then I can hand signal for him to come to me. Now, Beau is happy and not the least bit disadvantaged in any way at all.

Being a deaf cat has its advantages. For example, Beau loves to be vacuumed. When he sees me get out my Hoover, he comes running and flops down for me to use it on him. The other two cats look at him in disbelief. The canister vac has been their nemesis for years. Whenever it comes out, they avoid it at all costs. Not Beau, not hearing all the noise it makes, he thinks it's a good friend of his. When I'm done, he chases me, as if to say, “Why are you stopping? Let's do that again!”

It is refreshing to see a sweet, laid back cat like Beau, unafraid of nothing, living his life with such unbridled enthusiasm. He is a huge cat, nearly 20 pounds of solid, big frame. When he needs to get up and go, he jumps up with gusto and trots, fluffy tail flapping in the air. Shadows, light beams and sudden movement all fascinate him. He looks at the world in a way very different from my two hearing cats. To him, everything is exciting and worthy of exploring. Beau thinks nothing of clearing tables and shelves. His favorite place in the whole world is in the middle of my desk, watching the screensaver on my computer monitor with great interest. I bought a special screensaver called G-Force that is a constant light show. His head turns back and forth, as if he's watching a tennis game, at the dancing, geometric patterns and dancing lights.

Living on a lake, there are a variety of birds, big and small to watch outside. From the cat tree, the cats look out and dream of being fierce hunters of the jungle, as they see egrets, storks, herons and ducks come close. Beau's favorite critters, though, are the small lizards out on my balcony, which use the railing as a “highway” and parade themselves in front of him for hours at a time. One day, a small lizard had positioned itself on the glass, just out of arm's reach, above Beau. He was reaching and stretching on his tip-toes, pawing at the baby lizard on the other side of the glass and just out of his range. The lizard just sat there and moved occasionally, just to intrigue him more. He sure slept well that night after a day of “jungle cat” hunting.

Though he cannot hear at all, Beau finds singing at the top of his lungs, out the window, particularly enjoyable. This cat really belts it, which has caused him to make friends with other people in the complex. I've taught him what it means to quiet down, but don't squash his feline enthusiasm. All I do is put my finger to my lips and he quiets down (momentarily). His sister Amber is as vocal as he is, I guess they come from a “musical” cat family, or so it seems anyway. The vet says he has Oriental blood in him, and that Oriental cats tend to be more vocal. Whatever the case may be, it's cute to watch him put his heart and soul into vocalizing, even if he can't hear what he's doing.

Having a deaf cat is a total joy, for anyone who has patience and love. Beau is my constant companion, sleeping between my feet at night, and when I'm on the phone with customers for work. So many gorgeous cats end up at the pound for one reason or another, and it feels wonderful to know that Beau and his sister have overcome that scary past. Neither of them will ever know abuse or hardship again. I keep in contact with Beau's rescuer and his cat Amber through Catster (a place for cat owners to blog and show off their cats). Both cats are big, well taken care of, and love to chase shadows and light. It is an honor to own deaf cats. They are a joy to live with; those of us who have them highly recommend it.