Four Days On

Coda remains hidden when I come into the back parlour. But he is eating and using the litter-box, and I have caught him on the cat-trees at the windows. More than that, I believe he is playing with the toys I have left him: I have heard some running about after the lights go out.

Darkness seems to bring him more confidence. Indeed, he wants out of his room, though I suspect that is a desire to escape his confines all together, rather than to participate in the Cosy Cabin’s social life. He makes his intentions clear by meowing and pawing the closed door of the back parlour, usually starting at 2.30 in the morning, and continuing until I get up a couple of hours later. I spend time with him each day - or, rather, I spend time in the room with him. I hope that as he becomes used to my presence, he will let that deter him less and less from showing himself.

For now, he stays in quarantine, not only to accustom him to his new world, but also to ensure that he has no illnesses that he can communicate to the others. I think he can be socialised; he is, after all, just a five month old kitten. Once his quarantine is complete, and I am assured that I can get him back into his room after he leaves it, I will introduce him to the other beasts, staring with the Tempos. I believe he will find them congenial playmates.

One On, One Off

Plans can change quite suddenly. I was going to make an appointment for Presto with his doctor on Monday. He had been feeling poorly, quiet, reluctant to play and with a visible rheuminess about his eyes. Over the weekend, he improved. Sunday night, I worsened.

I developed a sore throat, and Monday morning, I had an immense headache. All my face hurt, even my eyebrows; it might have been some sinus infection. But later in the day, though the headache remained, I also became very achy, so it may have been a touch of ‘flu. I felt bad enough to stay home from work for a day, which I don’t think I have done in more than a decade.

Presto, on the other hand, had returned to running about, playing and jumping on me. During his sickness, he would not rush out of the library when the Tempos were released, preferring to stay in a cat-bed. Now, he is coming out with his brothers, once again eager to see what’s new upstairs. Oddly, except for one day in the middle of last week, his appetite was unaffected by any illness; I have been feeding him separately from the other kittens, before giving them all the communal food dish, to make sure he received his nutrition. He had not sneezed or had trouble breathing at any time.

Though I am wary of what he might have had - and may still have to a degree - taking to the doctor a kitten who is playful and active and eating will probably result in nothing more than a bill and a judgement that Presto had a slight infection. So for now, both he and I appear to be recovering from our ailments, whatever they may have been.

First Illness

Presto is not feeling well. It started on Wednesday: he was without energy - or at least without enthusiasm for playing - he didn’t eat, and his eyes were rheumy. But the next day, he was well, and all symptoms of illness had disappeared. Friday night, however, he was feeling poorly again. He prefers to lie about, rather than play, staying in a cat-bed when in the library, and sometimes under the bed when he is out in the rest of the house. The good thing, which is also puzzling, is that since Friday, Presto’s appetite has remained good. I think he is eating with his brothers at meal-times, but I am supplementing this with offerings separate from his siblings, and he is eating these bowlfuls.

I will call the veterinary tomorrow to arrange an examination.

The New Kitten

Coda is doing well. Upon being released from the carrier into the cat-room, he immediately sought a spot in which to hide. He at first chose the hooded litter-box, but I couldn’t have that. Then he tried the windows, but they offered no escape. He eventually settled on the narrow spaces behind the bookcases. He periodically switches from one to the other.

But he comes out. He spent some of the night meowing at the closed door of the cat-room and reaching underneath it. When I came in this morning, he was out. He didn’t panic upon seeing me, but neither did he want to be seen, so he quickly hid again. Later, I caught him on top of one of the bookcases.

More importantly, he has eaten and used the litter-box, the latter for both types of waste. He isn’t eating as much as a kitten should, but I think the prime time for his meals for the next little while will be the dark hours. He will feel safer at night, so I will give him a larger supply of soft-food to consume then. He also has a bowl of hard-food, in which he has not shown interest.

So far, though, he is acting as most shy cats would in a new and frightening environment. I don’t think he’s feral at all, and will come around soon. But there is no hurry, and he will set the pace.

The Last of the Symphony

For a few weeks, I and a colleague have noticed a new feline coming to eat from the food we provide for the community cats behind our work-place. This new one appeared suddenly one day. He looks to be an older kitten, perhaps six months; though he is the size of the Tempos, the latter are very big for their ages. He is no doubt unrelated to the regulars of the colony, and was probably dumped by a former owner. I decided to trap him and get him fixed.

Yesterday’s attempt was a failure but on only the second try - this morning - I was pleasantly surprised by success. I had arranged with a local veterinarian to bring the little guy in as soon as I had caught him. That’s unusual for animal hospitals, but I have a good relationship with this hospital and with the perma-cat’s doctor. I will call when they open and see about bringing their new patient in. I have named him Coda, which is a musical addendum that comes at the end of a long piece, such as one which has five movements (eg. Presto, Allegro, Andante, Vivace and Largo…)

I think Coda is a boy, which will make working him into the schedule at the hospital easier than if he were a female. He may already be neuetered, though I doubt it. I will have him given his shots, and tested. If he is feral, which I suspect he is not, he will be released behind my work-place and join the colony there; he already knows it’s where he can obtain food. If he is not feral but needs socialising, then I guess I will have another cat living with me…

But this is the last piece of music I can listen to for a while. Really.

Sometimes a Nap

Brazil is pretty tolerant of the Tempos. He’s not as tolerant as Moxy, but he doesn’t mind them so much that he can’t be considered an uncle to them. But now and then, they can be a bit much.

Sometimes, an uncle just wants to take a nap, undisturbed and restful. Without nephews.

Patterns and Changes

Some have asked how Imogen is reacting after her surgery. Except for an hour early in the morning following her operation, Miss Silky has not been on the bed to sleep. She spends most of her time on the landing by the side-door, though she has started eating her meals in the bedroom again, which is inconvenient but at least normal. She has also started playing with the string-toy, and is more active.

It may be a while yet before all her routines return, though, on the other hand, this may be the point at which old patterns are broken and new ones start. A veterinary visit sometimes signals that. Subsequent to one of her hospital appointments, Indigo started relaxing in the sitting room much more than she had previously. I think that cats are affected by such things subconsciously much more than are humans.

In any case, Imo will sort herself out soon enough, I have no doubt. I think I will have more trouble adjusting to any changes she makes than she will.