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After her companion died the previous year, Tula, my red Burmese was truly in mourning. She wouldn't eat and wrent the air with terrible wails, until we were both nearly demented.
Believing strongly in the power of 'bonding', I decided to wail back and, with a bit of practise, managed to hit the right note. It certainly attracted her attention, because she stopped her own calling and rushed over to me, in compassion ~ or so I liked to imagine. She patted me with her paw and showed incredible sympathy. I had a word with my closest neighbour, explaining what all the unusual row was about. We continued in this way for several months. Tula seemed to find some relief and slowly began to quieten down.
I also tried head-butting, which was another success. We executed this in the loo, with me on the throne and her on the window-sill alongside, both head-butting away. Her purring decibels were nearly the equivalent of road-works.
Then, worryingly, during the following winter, she began to lose condition and started to miscalculate her jumps, which is very embarrassing for a cat. As she was a year older than her friend, Moola, had been, I suspected that her age was the reason for this deterioration ... until a very strange thing happened.
In March, I bought her a flea collar, because she hated the spray treatment. She had never worn one in the eight years since I had taken in both cats as 'rescues'. I felt, somewhat snobbishly, that flea collars were OK for moggies but, aesthetically, not really suitable for 'exotics'. I anticipated a furious struggle when I buckled it on, but Tula just purred louder than ever.
Now, amazingly, she had a new lease of life, enjoyed her food and even put on a little weight, She regained her thick, healthy coat again and seemed to have an increased confidence generally, and in jumping in particular. I was speaking to a neighbour one morning and we were both extremely startled when Tula suddenly appeared on my shoulder, nearly knocking me off-balance of course, as I bumped up against my neighbour. Tula had never done this before!
Once again, she started chasing her tail in the bath, doing high-jumps in the garden as she attempted to catch the wind, and was often up on the roof apex, having a thorough survey of her empire.
Tula remained delighted with her new necklace, and never once attempted to remove it. I'm sure she felt that it became her, being a kingfgisher blue velvet against her reddish coat. After all, "diamonds are a girl's best friend" and this was obviously Tula's feline equivalent! Should you ever notice ME wearing such a collar, please gently draw my attention to the fact that I've finally taken bonding a step too far.
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