The Last of the Sensor

I at last was able to pull off the useless sensor that had been put on Neville exactly a month ago, and which never worked. It cost a lot of money and was an inconvenience to him, but at least it never bothered him while he wore it. Taking it off did not appear to trouble him either, though it had when I tried it even last week.

No hair grew under the circular device, except where the sensor entered the skin; at that point, there was a small triangular piece that was different than the rest of the underside of the sensor. Interestingly, some of Nev’s hair next to the sensor has turned a light grey. A little patch of fur an inch to the left has turned a similar hue.

Fortunately, the amount of money I spent on the sensor has not gone entirely to waste. The kittens found where I had left it on a counter and knocked it to the floor. They spent some happy twenty minutes playing with it.

Welcome Home, Human; Let's Play

Imogen has developed a little game that she likes to play when I come home. She will wait in the bathroom and hunch down in the sink, pretending to be hiding, any residual water from the morning having dried by then. I will push her over and rub her head and sides roughly and act like I’m banging her head against the porcelain. She will make squeaking sounds. When I stop, she will twist about in the basin, inviting more. This will go on for some minutes, Miss Silky’s paws flexing in delight as I act like I’m beating her up. Then I will retreat and she will spy on me some more. Then we’ll repeat the process.

It’s all good fun until I have to clean the black hair from the sink to keep it from clogging up the drain…

Her Adventure Starts Soon

It was confirmed today that Xandria will be going for a trial-adoption next Saturday morning. It will be a sad day here in the Cosy Cabin, but the tiny one will be starting the rest of her life, and her time here will soon be no more than a vague memory. I think this will be a successful adoption. Xan will need more time to grow accustomed to her new humans than would Valkyrie, but she will. There are two of them to give her plenty of attention, and only one cat, a six year old male, who is easy-going. I hope that he will be a big brother to her, and maybe a playmate.

Even so, I know someone here who will miss his little sister.

Moxy Expands (His Horizons)

Moxy is feeling a little left out. All the talk about how well Sable is doing - and she is doing very well: this morning when I woke, she was still upstairs, in the sitting room - has obscured his own achievement.

Moxy has spent most of his time in the bedroom since our arrival in the Cosy Cabin. He has been fed there; the bedroom has a water-bowl and a litter-box. He has been anxious elsewhere, especially since he is being bullied by Brazil. But recently, he has started coming to the kitchen, especially at meal-times. It does cause a bit more chaos at dinner- and snack-time, since the kittens already eat swiftly, then try to steal from each other’s or some other cat’s remaining food. It is a hurry to keep them occupied with their own bowls, and Moxy tends to be the same way - or his is just another convenient bowl for the babies to raid.

Nonetheless, now that Mox will mix, I don’t want to discourage him, so I feed him in the kitchen, too. Sometimes, he comes out perhaps just to be in a different room. And, just as promising, he has begun playing. He is still afraid of the toys I use, such as a string-toy, and he’s so far bemused by the red dot. But he has been active with the fuzzy mice, which I will encourage.

This very friendly, fat-headed boy is quite adoptable, but as he finds more courage and a bit more confidence, he will be even more so. And until then, it will make his life in the Cosy Cabin better.

Not Your Usual Cat

Just before going to bed each night, I make sure I know where each of the cats is. Last night, I could not find Sable. I checked the usual spots, and the unusual spots. She wasn’t in the library, or under my bed, or in the cat-room. I continued to say good night to the various beasts. When I entered the unlighted sitting room to tell Neville I was going to bed, I saw a dark cat on a cat-tree by the window. I thought it was Imogen, before remembering that I had just seen Miss Silky in the bathroom. It wasn’t Moxy; he was snoozing on the bed. I turned on the lamps and saw that it was Sable.

My ghost continues to surprise me.

New Spaces For the Ghost

When I came home yesterday, I couldn’t find Sable. I looked all over the library, then throughout the cat-room. I was certain she had not gotten outside, and almost as certain that she had not slipped into the furnace-room. That storage-space has open ceilings, and a cat who gets in there might not be found for a while, and a feral cat may be lost for a long time. But I’m confident in my precautions, and did not believe that Sabe had evaded them. Eventually, a thought struck me and I looked under my bed. There she was.

This was quite a step forward for her, though she may not have realised it. She was in the library when I left for work in the morning, which means she had to have come upstairs while it was light out, and the other cats would not all have been asleep. She may even have been near some of them. I don’t know if the proximity or behaviour of some of her fellow felines drove her under the bed, or if she was caught upstairs when I came home and it was the closest refuge she had. But previously, she had come up from the library after I had gone to bed, and before I awoke. This was a change.

However, she was then stuck under the bed for some time, not wanting to risk coming out while I was about. Nonetheless, she may have had to relieve herself by nightfall, and about 9.30, while I was actually in the bedroom, Sable emerged from the bed, hissed at Valkyrie, who was in her way, and hastened down the stairs, though she paused when I called her name.

While I consider this to have been a positive stage in Sable’s socialisation, I don’t know that I want it to happen every day, as she went without food for the whole time that she was under the bed. I am certain she would not have eaten if food had been offered, and it would have been impractical to put some under there. But the fact that she is exploring the house, possibly interacting with the other beasts, and risked coming out from her refuge with me just feet away indicates that she has moved forward in her acceptance, as gradual as it is, of her life in the Cosy Cabin.

Little Differences

Having two kittens is of course good for the kittens; they provide companionship and a playmate for each other. But it is also instructive in seeing how personalities emerge and diverge.

Watching Xandria and Valkyrie, I’ve noted some differences between them. Valkyrie is much more people-oriented, and willing to acquaint herself with any new human soon after she sees him. Her foster-sister is more reticent; she needs to become used to someone over time. Yet both enjoy the company of other cats and are willing to make the first move toward being friends. Xandria has formed a relationship with big brother Moxy, while Valk is not concerned with any one feline - though she seems to be trying to settle near Imogen, from time to time.

Xandria is much smaller than Valk, and I think this size influences her behaviour with humans, especially when approached by someone walking erect. Yet she has little fear in tackling and wrestling a bigger cat. She will often initiate a rough wrestling session, and, if breaking free of Valkyrie’s grip, will throw herself back into the fray. She gives as good as she gets in close-quarter tussling. I think she is aware of both her strengths and weaknesses.

Valkyrie is more aware of the advantages her wiry form brings than the disadvantages: she is less likely than Xan to avoid a situation where she might be caught unawares. But she is not timid about utilising her legs - now growing long and gangly - by leaping over Xandria and then landing on her, an action the relatively stubby limbs of her little sister cannot replicate.

Nonetheless, both kittens are active and energetic. Xandria likes a playmate, but will also entertain herself with toys or other distractions, more than will Valkyrie, who prefers someone to act off of.

In terms of food, Valkyrie is more vocal in demanding her meals, but eats less than Xandria when presented with them. On the other hand, Xan will still tuck into kitten-food, while Valkyrie, a whole two months older, will eat some varieties, but prefers grown-up food. Even so, when one wants to eat from the other’s dish, neither makes a fuss about it.

Such are the observations available to a foster-guardian. These will come in useful in finding the right adopter for the kittens, when their individual characteristics will be used to match them with the best families. Until then, however, I will continue to be entertained by what Xandria and Valkyrie have to show me.