Horace Arrives

This is Horace. He arrived at the Cosy Apartment this morning, and is currently camping out in the bathroom. I am awaiting word on a veterinary appointment for my new guest; once I’m assured that he will use the litter-box, he can move into the more spacious accommodation of the library, with its books, couch, cat-tree and window.

Horace was a stray, seen for a number of weeks in a park in a neighbourhood of my town. I estimate that he is Hector’s age. He is thoroughly socialised and was probably a pet of some university students, many of whom lodge in the district, until they left at the end of their semester; he would then have been abandoned. I believe that was Hector’s origin, too.

The woman who was feeding Horace was concerned for him. The nights here are still pleasant, but there is a nip in them now, a nip that will grow sharper with every week. Currently, Horace, who is not a light or small boy, is well fed and appears healthy, though his coat has a certain outsider’s coarseness to it. As the winter arrived, his condition may have deteriorated.

He will of course remain as a foster-cat with me for as long as necessary, though he is such a good-looking fellow - a kind of ivory hue, with pink on the face, especially over the brows - that I imagine he will have people interested in him quite soon. Initially, though, he must be neutered and kept isolated, not only until his hormones calm but until we are sure he is healthy enough to begin integration. Until then, Horace and I will get to know each other.