Bear: I stare at you, make you very uncomfortable. You give me the chair.
Geumbi: Nooooooooooooooooooo, noooooooooooooo, nooooooooooooo, noooooooooooooo
Geumbi: Oh, hey mom! Look, I gots the chair!
Bear: Damn, I was totally going to stare her down ... to the floor.
Bear: I mean, I was just siting here pretty as you please, minding my business. I don't know what she was yowling about.
I didn't understand this dynamic until recently. Bear would seem to be doing nothing and Geumbi would be dramatically upset. She's my little drama queen. And strange. For example, I've seen her lick Bear hiss at him and then lick him again. I've been guilty of treating Bear like he never does anything wrong. Especially, because he has a knack for looking innocent.
In contrast, it's easy to attribute Geumbi's yowls to her past... Before I had her, I didn't really understand how emotionally damaged pets can be... I suppose a lot of people might still say she's just a cat. She is a cat, but I'd have to argue with just. Like a child shuffled from home to home, Geumbi has been learn that this is her home.
Recently her snuggles have reached a new level of cuteness. She snuggles her head in the crook of my neck, her bottom supported by that arm nuzzled into place and purrs. She says "Brrrr" and she says "Meow" and she says nothing, just opening her mouth to mew but making no sound, none that humans can hear anyway.
Geumbi: I gots a forever home.