One Door Opens, Another Door Opens

It always feels different as soon as a cat leaves the Cosy Apartment. Certainly Imogen seemed to notice the change immediately. Yesterday evening, she sensed that Zofia, whom she distrusted, had gone away; Imo spent more time out of the library last night than she had in the previous week.

She is wandering today through all the rooms except the sitting room; I’m sure she will get to that soon enough. She is currently intrigued by the bedroom, which was previously off-limits to her, as that was where I stored little Miss Zed and, by default (because he was usually sleeping there at the time), Renn, when Imogen was on the loose. Imogen noticed the open door as soon as she exited the library.

One of the funny things about her explorations of the bedroom is that she likes being under the bed. Initially, she spent about ten minutes with her head under the bed and her body outside, then slipped completely under. She was not fearful of anything, so I wondered about the attraction. Then I remembered that in her old home, the bedroom contained a ‘captain’s bed’; there was no space underneath. The latter then is a new feature for her, and must appear a wonderful idea.

Imo also likes being on top of the kitchen cabinets. She shouldn’t really be there, but I think it allows her to feel safe while out and about. Being young and fit, she has no difficulty ascending and descending, though her drop to the counters looks a bit awkward and possibly painful to me: she lets her body droop vertically as much as possible, then falls, like an immense blob of oil. But she is evidently unhurt by this method.

Her relations with the other cats are progressing well, I believe. She hisses at them, even from across a room, but this is little more than a warning for them to remain where they are. Neither oldster has shown an indication of wanting to close the distance between them and her. They have, however, intruded, in a leisurely fashion, into the library. Renn has re-discovered a favourite location of his – in a corner behind a bookcase – where he enjoys relaxing. Imogen doesn’t care for this at all, and I will have to watch possible inadvertent encounters as my big boy leaves the library, but I am not very worried about fights or injuries.

I believe that Imogen would do best as an only-cat, but I also think that she would adjust well enough to a home with one or two older, sedate felines, the kind who, like mine, aren’t interested in making new friends and just want to be left alone. Her integration so far has thus opened up possibilities for her future that may not have been plain previously.

Things are never static in a household with foster-cats. They come, they go, their characters evolve, nolens volens, and the foster-guardian must always observe, not just to preserve peace but to learn. So far, I like what Imogen is teaching me.