What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday did not go as anticipated.

The big event was Valkyrie coming to join the household. Valk is a six month old, rescued from a hoarding situation. She had been living with Xandria in the same foster-home, and was to be brought to the Cosy Cabin because the two kittens got along so well. That was, however, a whole day before.

When Valkyrie arrived, she was not pleased. Unlike Xan, who came out, looked around and decided she would make of the new place what she would, Valkyrie was frightened and upset. Despite not being with Xandria for only a day, she chose not to recognise her, and hissed and growled at her erstwhile friend.

In fact, Valkyrie spent the entire evening hissing and yowling at every cat she saw, even from across a room. She settled on the kitchen table and would not be moved. She allowed me to pet her, though she didn’t care for the action, really, yet howled whenever she could not see me. At night, she remained quiet, though I don’t think she slept at all. This morning, she took up her protestations where she had left off at last light.

This is not greatly different a situation than others I have encountered, though the vehemence of Valk’s displeasure, and the unexpectedness of it surprised me. Nonetheless, the weekend is upon us, and I will have time to work on the newcomer’s concerns. The residents are trying to ignore the new noisy one, though this is not easy.

The day was not improved when, that evening, Moxy leaped up onto my computer desk while I was there, innocently wanting some attention, and knocked over my teacup. My startled reaction - as much to the spillage as to the temperature of the tea with which I was suddenly confronted - threw Mox into a panic and he spun the cup in every possible direction. I would not have thought the old cup to have had so much tea in it, to paraphrase Shakespeare. It spilled across the desk, onto the wall, down onto the power-bar on the floor, on my trousers and onto the new duvet I bought two days ago, on which Neville had puked just thirty hours previously. Now my computer doesn’t work.

I am hoping for a quieter weekend…

Room for More

It was not my intention to bring in more cats, despite my new landlady’s acquiescence. Nonetheless, here one is. Her name is Xandria. That’s her, looking like a failed experiment in making a complete cat.

She is estimated to be about four months old, to judge by the presence of her adult teeth. She is, however, quite small and light of weight for her age (1.25 kilograms (2.75 pounds)). She was found by a rescue-group member along the side of the highway; that stretch of road has yielded its share of abandoned kittens over the years. Xandria was full of worms, which may have sapped much of the nutrition that should have gone to building a bigger kitten.

Xandria has lived in another foster-home for a few weeks and, though that home is a good and beneficial residence for the group’s cats, the space available for new arrivals is restricted. I now have as many as I ever have – and the last time I had seven, it was a temporary measure, lasting no more than a week – but there is room for them all, and it can be well utilised by an energetic kitten – though, as I write this, Xandria is snoozing: it was a long and active day for the little one.

She has been sniffed at by at least three of the adult cats here and, while there has been some growling, it has not amounted to what is traded among the Cosy Cabin’s grown-ups. Indigo, in particular, has been admirably restrained in her reaction. Once Xan wakes refreshed and rambunctious, that may change.

However, as they used to say in the television commercials of my youth, ‘But wait: there’s more!’…

His Favourite Time

The favourite part of Moxy’s day is bedtime. He loves it. No matter where he is in the house, at bedtime, he will appear on the bed and start purring and kneading, purring and kneading. Once I am in bed, he will flop over and purr and knead horizontally, usually making his biscuits against my side. He will lie next to me, with his head up by mine, sometimes on my pillow. His purrs will start to fade, his kneading become less insistent. I always drift off before he does.

Mox doesn’t stay the whole night on the bed. It’s like he’s there to make sure I fall asleep safely. After that, he finds another spot, though he may re-appear through the wee hours. But the next night, at bedtime, he will be back, purring kneading, purring and kneading…

Wanting to Meet Sable

I’ve been spending time in the cat-room with Sable. While I was there on Friday, one of the other beasts expressed some interest in who was behind the closed door. Meeting Sabe, though, is yet in the future.

Sable normally comes out just at night, but yesterday, when I was bringing in fresh water for her, I caught her out in the daylight. She experienced a little panic at first, but then sat still on a cat-tree. I spoke to her for a minute, and told her I would bring her some more soft-food. When I returned, she was hiding again. But this proved that she comes out during the day, to use the letterbox and to eat from her hard-food bowl. I think she will emerge more often in the daylight, and if I spend time in her room, she will find coming out while I am present an ordinary activity.

I think this is a slow process, but a sure one.

Her Residence Begins

Though I have not seen Sable since she made her abortive appearance immediately upon arrival yesterday, she has provided some signs of a satisfactory adjustment to her new home.

Usually I do not leave food out for the beasts over night; I made an exception for Sabe. She ate half a tin of soft-food, and a good number of kernels from her soft-food bowl. She also correctly used the litter-box for both wetting and pooping. These are all things that need to be addressed by a newly arrived cat before I feel at ease with them. If they don’t eat or use the box (or don’t use it properly), there may be concerns, and with a feral cat, it is very difficult to address them.

Now, the newest member of the family begins her first full day with us. I don’t expect much to happen quickly, but a vague plan is to have the door to her room left open for next Saturday’s movie-night, and to monitor other cats’ interaction with the newcomer – interaction which will likely be no more than cautious sniffing. That occurred at her foster-home, and it will be a good parameter to set for a week’s residence. If Sable wishes to push them further, I would not feel upset.

And Sable Makes Six

Sable arrived today. She has her own room for now, of course, a double aspect room with plenty to see out the windows and cat-trees to access them. There are toys, if she chooses to play with them, a private litter-box, a water-bowl and food.

She initially poked her head out of the carrier in which she arrived, possibly in response to my voice, which I hope she remembers. The next time I came in to the room, she had vacated the carrier and had installed herself in a closely-enclosed cat-bed, brought from her initial foster-home.

She did very well in that home, eating soon after she was captured, using the litter-box, even punishing a scratching-post. I’m not sure if this unexpected change to her environment will set her back or, as with many felines who go through a foster-home, add to her development as a domesticated cat. I expect her to do most of her examining of the new surroundings at night, in the dark. For that reason, she will be left soft-food, as well as hard, over-night. In any case, she will be given plenty of time to adapt.

The Cosy Cabin will be Sable’s home from now on. She won’t be available for adoption. I think asking a feral cat, even if she behaves only semi-feral, to become a socialised insider will be a tough enough request; asking her to do it twice will be too much. This will, I hope, be the last jarring change in what I would like to be a hereafter long and happy life.

Living In Hope

Perhaps encouraged by the new surroundings, Brazil has renewed his attempts to make friends with Neville. The grey grump is having none of it, however. Twice in the past week I have seen Shimmer’s offers rebuffed, once with a couple of whaps for emphasis. 

Nonetheless, Brazil lives in hope.