When New Friends May Not Be New

Readers may recall a blog-entry from a week ago, when I wrote that Sable seemed to be talking to Moxy, but not to other cats in the Cosy Cabin. A friend mentioned this weekend that Sabe and Moxy may have know each other before taking up residence here.

Sable, of course, had been coming to my apartment building for years. Mox had been doing so, as well: he was an inside/outside cat, semi-owned by my former resident manager. Therefore, Moxy was familiar with the building’s vicinity. Even then, he was the Mixer, and knew other cats. Once in a while, he would come to my ground floor apartment, and Sable was no stranger to the resident manager’s home, though she would stay outside and nibble what he put out for strays.

It’s entirely possible that these two former outsiders were acquainted even then. Moxy, being who he is, would have tried to be a pal. Sable seems not averse to new chums. Perhaps they are renewing their friendship, rather than forging one.

Their New Habits

I’ve said it often: cats are creatures of habit - until they change.

After largely ignoring Minuet’s cat-tree, though it was a prominent feature of the bedroom, Indigo has started using it. She is, in fact, now on the top of the cat-tree as often as she is at its bottom. She will spend hours snoozing there, and even sometimes eats her meals there (‘dinner on the terrace, madam?’) One night, she spent several minutes looking out the window from the tree before coming to bed. I am pleased, as this increases places that she likes to lie, and gives her a view out the window, if she chooses to use it.

And then there is Imogen. After more than two years, she has decided to try a cat-bed, and she likes the result. I saw her in one of the sitting room’s beds a few days ago. I don’t know why she hasn’t tested its value previously, but now that she has, she is there a substantial amount of time, even foregoing sleeping next to me at night in its favour. It is actually a dog’s bed, but is perfect for cats: a thick, soft cushion; high sides to stop draughts and provide the enclosed feeling felines savour, and the perfect size for a cat such as Imo.

The Cosy Cabin has allowed every cat to expand his or her world - or, as they might phrase it, to develop new habits.

No Peace for Moxy

Someone thought the window well in the basement library was a good place to take in a ground-level view of the back lawn without being disturbed. Unfortunately, if there is a spot that may define the term ‘hiding in plain sight’, this would be it. Brazil uses it as a refuge when there are strange humans in the Cosy Cabin - and it wasn’t any more successful a location in which to go unnoticed for Moxy…

No Vet Visit for Neville

I have not taken Neville to the veterinary over his wetting issue. I’ve decided that it is not serious enough for that. The amount he is urinating is still satisfactory, as is its frequency. The strength of his stream seems to have recovered, at least to a degree, and periodically. Sometimes his rear legs and bum are dirtied and need cleaning, and he does take longer in the box than previously; I don’t think that these factors are enough over which to consult a doctor. A urinalysis would probably be performed, but with adequacy of amount and frequency, no blood in the fluid, and his behaviour otherwise normal, I believe the only result would be the finding that my oldest cat is getting older.

Nev is still eating very well, and demanding chin-rubs from time to time. If he doesn’t play, and if he sleeps much of the time, well, that’s usual. A certain unsteadiness on his legs now and then and neglected grooming are expected as the years advance.

I am looking forward to sharing my grey lion’s sixteenth summer with him.

One of Those Mysteries

Life with cats is full of mysteries, usually small and transient.

Tuesday, I came home from work and, as normal, Valkyrie greeted me and wanted to know what I had brought back. Imogen wandered by, nodded acknowledgement, and passed into the bathroom to await me there. The others rarely say ‘hello’ upon my return, but Moxy usually does. This afternoon, he did not.

After calling his name and cursorily searching for him, I grew worried. He isn’t one to try to sneak out, and I am careful about such things. Nonetheless, I couldn’t find him until I looked under the bed. There he was. He appeared nervous or frightened, and didn’t come out despite my urgings. It was not until the sweeping and scooping and other things that need doing upon my return were completed, and dinner was in the offing, that he emerged, coming up to me, rubbing against me and acting as if nothing had been untoward.

The Mixer had not done anything like that before. It was as if he had been scared or threatened. My first thought upon finding him - the likeliest event, in fact - was that he had come too close to Indigo, who would have reacted with hostility. Yet there was no sign of a physical altercation, no tufts of fur; out of the bedroom is where he would have fled, I would think, if such a thing had occurred, not under the bed. If there had been an intruder, I would have found more than just Moxy under the bed; other cats would have been hiding, if not there, then elsewhere.

But it ended without fuss and, apparently, without lasting harm. This will be one of those little mysteries that cat-owners find scattered through their lives, never explained and, hopefully, never repeated.

Sable and Her Friends

It is interesting to watch Sable’s progression. While still wary of any physical approach I make that is too close, she is accustomed to my presence, will walk into a room in which I am sitting or standing, and will allow me closer if I am bringing her food.

But now she plays with toys. I’m sure she learned to do so from watching the other cats, especially Valkyrie, who is very active and cares nothing for who may be near or observing. Sabe’s playfulness is still tentative: the pictures of her at the door to the bedroom tried to capture her pushing about a fuzzy mouse, but her actions were too sporadic and cautious for display. She was a bit more active Saturday, while knocking about a toy in the kitchen. I tried to put that on video but, after a slow, careful advance, all I could record was a black lump moving like a jiggly pudding under the dining table.

This morning brought an interesting development. I was downstairs in the library, sweeping up cat-litter prior to scooping the boxes, with Sable watching me from the couch. Valkyrie always follows me when I descend to the library, and often Moxy and Brazil follow her. Those three were trotting about the couch, and when Mox passed beneath where Sable was sitting, she started talking to him in her hooting yelp. When Valk walked the same path, though, Sabe was quiet. I’ve written before about a possible friendship between Sable and the Mixer; I think this is another aspect of it.

My former outsider-cat has, I think, reached the point at which I can call her semi-feral, rather than feral. With help from her new friends, she might some day drop the feral designation all together.

Some Cats are Rarely Still

It’s funny how some cats are lap-cats and some aren’t, even if they like attention. Imogen is now a lap-cat, and Moxy is; they will stay for a long time. Brazil will remain on my lap for a few minutes’ petting, if I place him there to begin with, and Indigo is similar, expressing an interest in being on my lap, enjoying it for a while, then jumping off. Neville will lean over my lap for chin-rubs.

Valkyrie has been on my lap, but prefers to lie beside me, if she is near me at all. To be honest, she is too active for that, needing to roll and twist when I am stroking her fur. Her paws are always going, and she will become carried away and try to nip me, though she stops when I insist that she does. She seems disappointed when she has to stop, though.

Some cats just don’t see the reason for being still.