Millie Moves Ahead

I am satisfied with Millie’s progress. It is now a month since she last wet outside the litter-boxes. This includes her introduction to the many other cats who live in the Cosy Cabin; seeing cat after cat appear as if from nowhere must surely have been stressful to her. Yet she maintains her good hygiene, so far as I can tell.

Initially, she hissed and even physically fended off any cat who came too close to her. I cannot think this was a bad thing, since her reaction was not an over-reaction: there were no injuries, though there were some lessons learned. Brazil, who still goes after Imogen now and then - but, I am interested to see, with less vigour or seriousness - has been put in his place twice by Mills. Even the Mixer, who means no harm, has been kept at a distance by some judicious whapping.

In the last few days, Millie has been watching more than hissing. The latter still occurs, but she seems less frightened or anxious about the others. She had taken to jumping to the top of the cat-room’s bookcases when she saw other beasts enter the room. Already, she is more likely to maintain her ground at the top of a cat-tree. She has even left her room’s safety and explored a bit; previously, I had had to bring her out. And, for their part, the others seem to find her less fascinating than they did.

Nonetheless, I will give the newcomer plenty of time alone, with the door to the cat-room closed to anyone else. She will continue to be allowed to set her own pace. That pace, however, is moving in the right direction.

The Next Leg

The latest project involving the cats is to rid Neville of the matts on his rear legs. They are primarily on the backs of these limbs. I suspect that, with his advanced age, he cannot stand long enough in a litter-box to wet, so he crouches. (Cats normally walk and stand on their toes; Nev probably squats on his whole feet.) This presses sodden litter into his fur, where it stiffens. I have to pick the matts out one by one with a comb, as his skin is too thin and the crusted hair too close to it to have been trimmed.

He is naturally impatient with such operations but they must be done. I have almost finished with one foot, but it is slow going. Once it is completed, I will try to keep up with it as it recurs.

Such is another price of aging…

Sable's Latest Discovery

There has been a minor albeit interesting development courtesy of Sable. Not only has she returned to her spot under the dining table for breakfast (both yesterday and today) but she has found a new place to relax in the library.

I have a cat-hammock, rather like a camp-bed, that has been enjoyed for years by many cats, though by none since we moved into the Cosy Cabin. Sabe has now discovered its comfort, and I have seen her in it several times when I go downstairs.

There is often something new for a cat to find, even in something old.

Integration and Nonchalance

Millie suffered her sanctum to be invaded this evening. I dislike allowing this, but integration isn’t achieved by isolation. And, considering the number of cats I have, and their diverse personalities, I am grateful for their reactions to Millie.

Their reactions, in fact, seem more concerned with returning to the cat-room than with bothering, or even interacting, with its new occupant. Brazil seemed to have been in a staring contest with Mills, though he was actually just trying to find a way past her to the saddle-topped cat-tree, which is his favourite perch in the room. And on the subject of favourite perches, Moxy, too, preferred a window seat to friendship, at least for now. Millie appeared most taken aback by the Mixer’s trespass, since the top of that cat-tree is her favourite spot, too. Even Indigo, who dislikes all the other felines, wanted just to be back in the cat-room.

I am sure that the future won’t always be as innocuous as tonight’s tableaux, but every time Millie sees the others ignore her, or give her the shoulder of nonchalance, the better her acclimitisation to the Cosy Cabin will be, as it will prove to her, bit by bit, that there is nothing to fear from these strangers.

Sorry for Millie

I feel sorry for Millie. Not only is she in a new home, but she must now reconcile herself with the fact that she shares it with seven other cats.

She has met them, at least to see. I have let her out of the cat-room to explore and have also let them in. I don’t really care for the latter, as I want Mills to feel safe in there, but if she is out, the door must be kept open, which means, aside from physically barring the others from going in - which would be impractical and stressful - they will be free to come and go. And, to be fair, they are more interested in the room - and its smells - when they are there than in its new occupant. Except for Moxy, who wanted to meet Millie and was nonplussed at being hissed at when he tried to climb her cat-tree.

The compromise arrived at is to open the door to the cat-room for supervised intervals. Those outside may come in, she inside may come out. They will see and be seen. When the time is up, Millie will have the safety of a closed room once more.

Sable, my other (relative) newcomer has spent today both upstairs and downstairs, and has even returned to the bedroom window, sitting at the top of the cat-tree, while I am at my desk a few feet away. Perhaps she simply needed yesterday to assure herself that she could spend time in the library once more if she wished.

And time remains the key. Whatever Sabe and Millie want to do at a specific moment - as long as it is not harmful to anyone - is permitted. They will choose their own pace; as I’ve told many through the rescue-group, forcing the pace is counter-productive. The great blessing is that my cats are not very intrusive, as cats go. Brazil, when allowed into the cat-room, jumped to the summit of the saddle-topped cat-tree and lie down for a snooze, despite Millie being on the other cat-tree. If this remains typical for my cats - and I am sure it will be (with the occasional screaming match that even cats accustomed to each other have) - then time will impose its own solutions.

But I will still feel sorry for Millie, in the meanwhile.

A Little Bit of Pandemonium

Yesterday’s evening was hectic. I think because the cat-room was off-limits with Millie taking up residence there, the other beasts were at a bit of a loss as to what to do and where to go.

Moxy was yowling and Brazil was walking about hooting. Imogen wanted up on her favourite spot on the bed, but by then, Moxy was already on the bed. I tried to explain to Imo that the Mixer was harmless, and slowly, very slowly, Miss Silky settled down, carefully watching Mox, giving him plenty of warnings, though he couldn’t have cared less.

Sable seemed the most affected by the evening. She spent hours yelping and cooing, though she didn’t actually refer to the cat-room; indeed, she spent the evening in the bedroom. Despite my presence at the computer, she decided to take up a position on Min’s cat-tree, just behind me, even though Indigo was at the top.

Indie at last had enough of Sabe’s slow ascent, as if the latter were trying to be nonchalant about progressing higher and higher. Eventually, Indie yelled at her and swatted, and both jumped down. With the cat-tree unoccupied, Sable tried again, and gradually gained the top. Once there, though, she kept scratching at the screen. She didn’t inflict damage, but she may have if she had continued. But she stopped every time I told her ‘no’. She spent much of the night there, after everyone had calmed down.

However… This morning, she discovered that the library was no longer occupied and the basement was open to all comers once again. She has spent the whole day down there, and didn’t even come up to sit under the dining table for breakfast, which was disappointing for me. She has, at least for now, reverted to her behaviour as it was before the library was closed off for Millie. It may be that Sabe will return to the bedroom more and more when she realises that the library’s access isn’t going anywhere.

Life with eight examples of the world’s most sensitive species isn’t always predictable.

Millie in the Cat-room

While the holiday unfolds in Idylland, so does a new chapter of Millie’s life in the Cosy Cabin. She moved up to the cat-room today.

She initially kept trying to escape when I entered, but with evening came the realization that this will be her safe-room now, and not the library downstairs. She’s a little sad at that, but I think she will come around.

The cat-room has numerous advantages. Though it has been hot outside the last few days, it was quite cool today, and the cat-room will be warmer (with air conditioning when it becomes too warm.) There are two windows with much better views, panes that can open to allow in outside scents. And it is more convenient for me to spend time with Millie.

The disadvantage is that the room is carpeted, and if Millie chooses not to use the litter-boxes, the result will be worse than on the bare flooring of the library. She has her two boxes from downstairs with her, and soaker-pads surrounding them.

So far, she has not used the boxes; neither, I can tell from a rather minute examination of the room, has she wet outside of them. It is only a matter of time before she needs to do something, so, as the saying goes, time will tell.

As for the other beasts, they have discovered that the library is once again available for their use, and most have been down to investigate any changes. I am glad of that. How the cat-room being off-limits will affect their routines remains to be seen, especially as Sable has been spending time in there at night. But she has proven herself adaptable, if given patience, and will again, I am sure.