Happy To Be a Friend

This video is, unfortunately, quite dark; the lighting in the library is bad. But it does get the idea across: Moxy is a very friendly cat. I’m known to him only as the human who caught and had him neutered in May, and the human who trapped him and incarcerated him in two rooms now. Yet he shows me each time we are together that he likes me. He’s a naturally happy boy. If you can hear him, you will note that his purrs are so gravelly that they sound like growls. However, once having had all the outdoors in which to roam, he is finding one room restrictive. After he visits the veterinary on Tuesday, he will have more freedom.

For now, he will have to contain his happiness.

Not All Disarrangements Are Bad

I slept better last night, since Moxy was quiet. He started yelling when I had to get up in the middle of the night - a severe cramp in the calf of a leg - but he reverted to silence soon after. He continues to show himself a very friendly fellow, with enough force behind his desire to rub up against a person to knock the person over. He is eating well, though he has pooped only once since the weekend. That may not be cause for worry yet, as he is consuming only soft food. He has a doctor’s appointment scheduled for Tuesday; there appears to be nothing wrong with him - no old scars or injuries from being outside, a chipped tooth but no bad breath, moderate softness to his fur - so the veterinary visit will be a general examination.

The closing of the door to the library has wrought some unexpected changes among the residents, especially Indigo, who is the most affected. Bereft of her usual haunt, she is checking out what the rest of the apartment has to offer, though its space is itself limited with filled boxes. She is curling up on a cushioned dining room chair, and resting in the hall near the front door. I have still been able to deliver her insulin injections, which previously required her to be lying next to me.

She is marginally less annoyed with the proximity of other cats, and has found a new spot in the cylinder-house cat-tree, which she has never visited priorly. This led to a startling episode when Imogen, who likes to jump up to the top of the cylinder, realised that her rival was within, and bounced off the tree as fast as she had arrived on it. No cat was injured in the making of the stunt, however.

Because Indigo sometimes picks on Neville, I have put him in the bedroom with Imo when I leave for work (Imogen and Brazil still go at it from time to time). The Nevsky is more affected by altercations with Indie than is Brazil, so incarceration in the bedroom relaxes him.

On the subject of Shimmer, he is more agile than Nev and, though made more cautious by Indigo’s animosity, is not overly bothered by it, so he stays out with the masked one. His agility may have served him well yesterday, since I came home to this scene.

One other change that Indie probably felt strongly is in the matter of litter-boxes. She had been aware of other boxes in the apartment, but has not before used them. I came home to find a puddle of urine in a shallow box - fortunately, not one that I needed for moving (I’d hate to waste a good box) - and I suspect it was Indigo. I watched her last evening, sniffing out the various boxes to which she had access; I have placed for now a triangular extra box in the bathroom. She eventually used two different boxes, for both wetting and pooping. After being used to your own washroom, it’s tough to have to resort to the general lavatory that everyone else uses.

I think Indie misses the times when I would sit on the library couch and she would join me for some snuggles. But to compensate, she spent almost the whole night on the bed with me - on the opposite side from a disgruntled Imogen. Even when I had to get out of bed at about 2.30, Indigo remained where she was, waiting for my return. She purred while next to me, which was nice to hear. I hope this becomes a habit with her.

So far, Moxy’s influence has actually been of benefit. We’ll see if that continues when he meets everyone…

The Unrested

This is Moxy. Moxy is not happy. Moxy was not happy all night.

Moxy belonged to a former resident of my apartment building. Along with most of the tenants, he moved out. His cats were inside/outside. I and a friend were able to catch two of them, and they are with my erstwhile neighbour in his new home; one is still missing, and the fourth is Moxy. The man doesn’t really want Moxy, and was reluctant to take him. So Moxy is staying with me until he finds a foster-home or is adopted.

One of the problems Moxy’s owner had was that Moxy was wetting outside the litter-box. During the short period he had to stay in a room in the former owner’s empty apartment, he used the litter-box provided. He initially wet in an empty litter-box, which was a good compromise, I think. I took what he had left there and dribbled it into the litter of the box he was meant to use. Since then, and continuing into the Cosy Apartment, Moxy has been hitting the right target each time, even pooping there, and this with litter with which he was unfamiliar. The other problem Moxy allegedly had was that he was beating up on his feline roommates. How he really behaves among other beasts is yet to be determined.

He is actually a very friendly fellow. He knew me for less than a day - and I was the person responsible for trapping him at that - and was already rubbing up against me and asking for pets. He was easier to get into a carrier than most of may own cats. He clearly was someone’s cat before he was lost or abandoned, and ended up an outside/inside cat with my neighbour. His new restriction of habitat was probably the reason for him crying continuously - not just continually - all night. He also destroyed the blinds in the library: actually tore the metal strips into pieces. But he used the litter-box…

Meanwhile, Indigo is dispossessed of the library. She no longer needs it as a safe-room, but likely feels annoyed at being kept out. At three o’clock, she climbed to the top of the kitchen cabinets and started knocking off the recyclable jugs and bottles stored there. Fortunately, I’d been awake for four hours anyway, so this did not trouble me…

My efforts to capture Moxy’s missing sister have met with failure. I caught two more raccoons last night. They were evidently more frightened than their brother whom I caught the previous night, for they crapped all over the traps. I will be spending my evening cleaning them. The traps, I mean. The raccoons are on their own.

And I’m still moving.

Falsely Imprisoned

In addition to packing up all my belongings and trying to trap the outsider-cats, I am attempting to capture a cat belonging to a former tenant who has moved out. He is no longer in town - though he lives not far away. His cats were outside/inside beasts, and one was outside when the movers came. That cat has only intermittently returned to the old, now vacant apartment, and I am basing my attempts to trap her on that habit. I don’t have long to arrange for success, so I have the traps out all day and all night. Last night’s venture brought a not wholly unexpected result.

This is one of Orlac’s tribe, maybe even one of her cubs. (Young raccoons are also called ‘kits’ or ‘kittens’, but I’ve used that term much over the years already.) In any case, it is not a black and white, long-haired cat, so I let him go. I have a feeling his friends and family aren’t going to believe his tale when he tells it.