Upstairs Saturday Afternoon

Millie was brought up to the main floor for an hour in the early afternoon today. The other cats, except for Neville, were in the bedroom or the cat-room. I think her excursion was a success. I could tell that she was a little nervous through it all; nonetheless, her tail was up most of the time. She explored the sitting room, kitchen and corridor, and even went into the bathroom.

(Readers may notice Millie’s tail-tip. Though she is a tortoiseshell, the last inch and a half of her tail is that of an orange tabby. It stands out like Rudolph’s red nose…)

I suspected that Nev would not make a fuss over a new cat on the loose. I was right. When she first encountered the oldster, Millie may have thought he was dead, so little did he respond. I think he may have looked up at some point. My new guest was not overly upset by his presence. She hissed a couple of times - a most unfrightening sound, like a leak in a bicycle tire - but that was it.

She now knows that there are multiple cats in the Cosy Cabin, from the smells she no doubt encountered, and from seeing the Nevsky and hearing Valkyrie, who cried the whole time to be let out of her prison. Millie did not wet anywhere, and has not since returning to the library, to which, despite her bravery upstairs, she was pleased to return. (Since covering both her litter-boxes with their hoods, she has not wet where she should not, paws crossed.)

I will release Millie upstairs tomorrow and Monday, which is the Victoria Day holiday. That will keep her until the next weekend, I think. In such a case as hers, I believe small amounts of novelty are just enough.