Xandria at Home

Xandria is settled in her new home. She has two humans to fuss over her and a big feline brother named Jack. At first, she was wary of Jack, of course, especially as he can be a bit intense; notice the stare in one photograph. Now, they are wrestling and playing together, and Jack periodically grooms Xan (who has a new name), whether she thinks she needs cleaning or not. Their relationship sounds at this time rather like the one the kitten had with Moxy. Readers can see the progression of her new relationship in the pictures.

This was a good move for the little one. From abandonment on the edge of a highway to a loving home with a couple of attentive humans and a protective sibling: Xandria is a lucky cat.

The Small Back Room

Neville sometimes goes down to the library to rest. I am not sure what the attraction is for him. He has never been a big reader. It can be cool down there, especially, I would imagine, for an oldster like him. But he has a comfy couch and - I think this may be the main draw - the other cats don’t spend much time in the library. But I worry that it is too cold for him, and at meal-times, if he is still in the library, I have to bring his food all that way.

Now, I have noticed that the Nevsky is spending time in the cat-room. He climbs to the top of the tree under one of the windows. I don’t think he takes advantage of the view, despite the fact that it overlooks the back garden. He snoozes there from time to time, and feeding him in that location has the advantage not only of proximity, but of observation: I can see him straight down the corridor and know when he has eaten what’s in his dish, whether he wants more, or whether he is sated.

Why he has started inhabiting the cat-room, I don’t know. It is another of those sudden changes that cats, so much the creatures of routine, nevertheless periodically undertake. I am not using the cat-room for a new cat at the moment, and if Sable, during her visits to the room, finds another feline there, it won’t do her harm to be introduced to her oldest roommate.

Nev has found another comfortable corner of the Cosy Cabin to inhabit, and I think it is a nice change.

Measuring My Help

Every time I bring out the yard-stick, Valkyrie knows that I’ll be pulling fuzzy mice out from under the oven. She gives a little cry and hurries over to watch, ie. crouch low and get in my way so I can’t see what I’m doing.

What I’m doing, I know. Why I’m doing it, I don’t, since the fuzzy mice will end up back under the oven within minutes.

Heard But Not Seen

Sable still spends most of her time under the bed. She comes out at night, and lies on a cat-tree in the cat-room. Sometimes she hurries out during the day, uses a litter-box in the cat-room or downstairs, then rushes back under the bed. Periodically though, she stays out and wanders about; now and then, I’ve startled her - and vice versa - when she’s been on top of the refrigerator, jumping down suddenly when I appear.

On the weekend, I was at the computer in the bedroom. Sabe slipped out of the room for some fresher air, and I heard her make what seems to be her characteristic gulping wail sound. I thought at first she was in the library, but she was, in fact, in the kitchen, and I missed the chance of recording her movements. Her sounds come at the beginning of this short video. Aside from an odd hiss if a cat comes too close to her, this is the only kind of noises she has so far made.

Corners To Be Turned

Moxy has been wary of Brazil since Brazil went after him a couple of times. ‘Attack’ is too strong a word; cat-people will know what I mean: Shimmer was likely just trying to boss the Mixer around, to show who’s boss, as he has tried - and still does periodically - with Imogen.

I haven’t seen Brazil do this with Moxy for some time, perhaps a couple of weeks. Instead, Brazil appears to be trying to befriend the big, hefty boy. He repeatedly sniffs Mox’s nose, though Moxy probably suspects a trap and retreats half the time. But today, I found the two of them on the bed together.

Furthermore, Valkyrie later joined them, and Shimmer groomed the kitten for several minutes, while lying next to Moxy. The latter seemed ready to give Shimmer the benefit of the doubt. I of course have no idea what happens when I am at work, but if this weekend is an indication, a corner may have been turned.

Then again, knowing cats, maybe I should be on guard as much as Moxy…

His Little Bit More

It’s funny what a cat’s habits can signify. Brazil eats well. He doesn’t eat a great deal, really; a modest amount, though evidently sufficient. He is offered more than he wants at each soft-meal time, and he nibbles at hard-food periodically.

Every night, however, about nine o’clock, Shimmer wants a bit more. He starts whining and rubbing up against my leg. He is asking for a little more soft-food. Originally, I gave it to him because I thought he was not eating enough. That may indeed be the case. It quickly, and perhaps predictably, became a nightly routine. Now, every evening, Brazil receives an amount of soft-food; no more than a quarter of a three-ounce tin. Most of the time, he leaves a couple of morsels, tiny things; sometimes, he licks the bowl.

Afterward, he is satisfied. He jumps up into the cylinder-house cat-tree, or lies on a heating vent. If he had not received the food, he would have survived and would have been quiet after a while. Yet something was lacking, and that little bit filled a gap.

Maybe it has nothing to do with food. Maybe it’s Brazil’s way of asking if I still like him, if I still care about him each night. When he receives his answer, he can rest.

I can understand that, since after I give him his answer, I can rest better myself.

Battle in the Basin

Katie Isabella was hoping that I would video-record some playtime with the cats. As she rightly pointed out, it’s difficult in a one-person household to play and record simultaneously. But coincidentally, a few days ago, I managed to capture some of what Imogen likes to do when I come home. She often meets me at the door, then retreats to the bathroom, where she crouches in the basin - supposedly hiding - and waits for me to attack her there. This isn’t quite what we do, as I normally use both my hands, but it records her squawks and clucks, and what I think is her enjoyment of the activity. In any case, she keeps wanting to do it, so there must be some fun in it for her.