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Post by whollygoats on Mar 17, 2022 13:16:48 GMT
Yeah...It was a result of adopting a feral kitten (Murray) who did NOT like being wrangled into a carrier to go to the vet's office. Like, he turned into Taz, the Tazmanian devil of cartoon fame, and even injured himself in his frenzy on the first, and only trip in to the vet's office. Still, it is a challenge closing up the house so that both fuzzwads are funneled into the library, where they are contained for the exams. Once that starts happening, the suspicions of both fuzzwads escalate. This time, neither animal was enclosed, so we had to catch them, and, of course, Cleo went into hiding while Murray was captured. I found her inside the lower kitchen cabinets, hiding in the stored foodstuff.
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Post by Mari on Mar 20, 2022 19:18:36 GMT
You're an engaging storyteller, WG. I can just imagine Cleo in the cupboard.
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Post by whollygoats on Mar 20, 2022 19:54:59 GMT
Perhaps you remembered my stories about her going about the house, trying all the doors, snooping. She prolly has a score or more hiding places throughout the three levels of the house. She went to ground in the very same place she took refuge last year, so she is predictable, if her choices are severely restricted.
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Post by whollygoats on Mar 23, 2022 2:56:01 GMT
So, we have a temporary foster guest....Muffikins who earlier stayed upstairs with his adoptive sister while their human went out of country. The same human is now attempting to pull things together to leave her farm to lessors in the next month and little Muffikins is something of a 'handful'. She's hoping that my two felino-sloths could use some young energy to rev their metabolisms and, in turn, provide some adulting to the youngster that might temper his manners. ' So far, since he was released on the main floor, my two fled for outdoors. I have since shut him in the basement in a bid to entice my two back inside for the night. It's not looking all that good at this point, as they are malingering on the balcony. This will come down to how enticing the food bowl is.... Note: I do not refer to him as 'Muffikins'. To me, he is either 'Roy Kent', or 'Buster'.
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Post by whollygoats on Mar 23, 2022 13:19:47 GMT
So, my fearless duo was enticed in after I shut Buster in the basement. They took refuge on the bed with me while Buster roamed the main floor. They are still keeping distance and doing a lot of staring. Once I was upright this morning, Buster moved in for the attention. He is a LOT more sociable than my pair. They were willing to go outdoors first thing (Buster does not get outdoor privileges for obvious reasons).
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Post by whollygoats on Apr 5, 2022 2:37:29 GMT
So, Buster is still here. He sleeps on the bed with the rest of us, now. He is still entirely too friendly for his own good and wants to play games with whoever is willing. The response from my seniors is not encouraging. They have learned to put up with him, but they've decided they don't have to like it, and won't. We're down to him lunging and them swatting and hissing. Meanwhile, he does zoomies around the house thrice each day (including the obligatory 3 am romp), does multiple moves on the various carpets, pulls down a few books, moves items from tables to the floor, dabbles in the water containers and walks through the resulting mess, while exploring every possible crevice and potential hiding space in the house.
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Post by whollygoats on Apr 7, 2022 1:01:41 GMT
Buster has gone home. I have thrown all the doors open because it is a lovely spring afternoon with big puffy white clouds floating slowly past in an azure sky.
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Post by whollygoats on May 11, 2022 4:55:35 GMT
Buster is back and his sister, Molly, is with him. He is a mite more deferential than he was a last month, but my pair of seniors is having none of it. They are staying outdoors in protest. I'm currently trying to lure them back indoors without risking letting either of the new arrivals escape. The problem is that Molly, as per usual, has gone to ground in some hiding place on the main floor. Since I don't know where she is, I cannot just leave a door ajar to let my seniors come in when they feel comfortable. I'm required to place myself at the door, so Molly, in hiding, does not slip out. Soon, I shall need to retire, myself, and those outdoors will spend the night there.
*sigh*
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Post by whollygoats on May 11, 2022 13:02:56 GMT
Well, I figured out that Murray was spooked by the carriers placed near the French doors. He does NOT like carriers. So, I moved the carrier across the room and away from the doors. He came in. But, by then, Cleo was outdoors and resisting. I let her in when I got up for my nocturnal visit to the commode.
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Post by whollygoats on May 24, 2022 21:11:08 GMT
Buster and his sister, Molly, are starting to fit in. Buster still has not made it out a door, yet, for which the seniors are blithely clueless about how thankful they should be. Murray is getting over his cautious re-entries to the house, trying to avoid a lunging kitten. Molly has actually been seen (by me) on the main floor. Swimmer sussed out her hiding spot in the basement and lured her upstairs to sleep on the bed, instead of a dirty hideout. Still, the seniors are reluctant to come in any earlier than necessary and need to be called, when they used to herd me to the bed.
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Post by whollygoats on May 31, 2022 21:00:17 GMT
Well, Buster has come to reign supreme INSIDE the house. Sure, sure...the seniors hiss and slap him around, and he regularly demonstrates his submissive nature when he galumpfs up to them and then flops to the floor. Still, they are spending the better part of the day outdoors and need to be summoned indoors to bed after nightfall.
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Post by whollygoats on Jul 5, 2022 3:51:55 GMT
The seniors have learned to tolerate Buster a mite more. They are back to asking to enter and exit and move faster through the door, knowing that the ginger kitten is kept indoors. If he gets up in their face, they'll make sure that his face gets the side of a paw. He has had one recent evening when he was allowed to join the clutch of fuzzwads on the bed.
Molly is still the furtive figure, but she's allowing a lot longer glances at a lot closer distances. I still get the occasional early morning confrontational yowls when she and Cleo have their standoff.
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Post by whollygoats on Aug 7, 2022 1:50:01 GMT
So, with my house guest, Molly must have freaked and taken a door she should not have when the guest opened it. She got out. I started wondering after a few days of not hearing her 'outbursts' directed at the other cats. Then, while on the balcony, I spotted Murray hanging out with another cat in the back garden. Although I could not be sure, the other cat looked a lot like what I remembered Molly looking. My house guest was leaving town for a week, so I put in a call to Molly's human and she came down from Puget Sound midweek. Sure enough, an early morning call in the back garden reunited Molly and her mistress and got Molly back inside with regularly filled food bowls. Molly is one of those one-human felines. She trusts only Swimmer and her granddaughter.
On the other front, Buster has been malingering even longer at screen doors and windows, wistfully chattering at the SQRLS playing with the birdies, wishing he could go outside. He had made many attempts and lunged out to the balcony, only to be apprehended and returned indoors. Well, I got the go ahead to trial him on the balcony. Supervised, of course. So, this morning, I was enjoying the just risen sun and there he was, scratching on the bottom of the window, inside the library, asking to come out. So, I reached up and opened the door. He emerged...gingerly. He carefully familiarized himself with the balcony. I was feeding crows, so he took some transitory interest in that, but he had to sniff everything on the balcony, up close and personal. Now, I thought he'd bound out, nose around, and then jump down off the balcony into the back garden and explore even further. Surprising to me, that didn't happen. He decided he liked the railing. And, he decided he liked sleeping in the direct sun. Then, he decided that he'd flop just inside the door, then get up and transit the doorway to flop just outside the door, rinse and repeat. I went out of the house on a fifteen minute errand and returned to find him asleep in the front room. The French door has remained ajar. He's so mellow about his new liberty....
I can't help but wonder whether I'm being lured into a false sense of security. Muff the Buff is viewed in these parts as the feline version of Eddie Haskell. I guess I'll find out.
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Post by whollygoats on Aug 9, 2022 1:26:22 GMT
He failed to heed the call to come in last night, so Buster spent the night in the garden. He rustled up out of the high weeds when I ventured out to enjoy the morning. He tucked in to tuck in and then fell asleep in the corner of the library. He distinctly accepts this as his domicile, even if it may be transient. This afternoon's nap included a stomp and flop on the sleeping human. My cats don't sleep _on_ me, they sleep next to me. Buster will sleep _on_ me, usually draped across my torso.
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Post by whollygoats on Aug 19, 2022 3:15:20 GMT
So...Watershed day today.
Molly let me pick her up. And pet her.
Since she has twice bolted the house and had to be retrieved from the wider neighborhood, Molly has been confined to the closed attic. Before I open the door to the attic stairway, I must close all main floor doors to the outside. Since I tend to allow the French doors to the balcony to stand ajar as a feline transit point, I must make sure this is closed before offering Molly access to the main floor. Well, evidently, today I did not fill her food bowl fast enough. She came to the door at the base of the stairs and placed a complaint. I heard it. I opened the door and she came out, buffed my ankles and repeated her complaint. That's when the up-picking and petting happened.
I carried her back upstairs, carefully closing the door to the stairwell behind myself. I filled her bowl as she patiently stood by. Then, she tucked in with gusto and I retired to the larger attic space. After satisfying her hunger, she stomped past me, with a gimlet eye, and proceeded to go back to hiding under the guest bed. I am obviously "suboptimal" when it comes to feline service.
So, I've now proven that not only am I not going to savage her, but I also know how to pour food out of a bag. I'll have to go back and put out some Temptations.
(Buster has gained free rein to come and and go with the seniors. He has proven he knows where home is and checks in regularly. He is reliable.)
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Post by whollygoats on Aug 25, 2022 4:33:46 GMT
Well, Molly's human is back from her brief travels back east to attend a reunion, so she's spending time hanging around the garden. In that, she decided to trial Molly out on the back balcony. She was off like a shot (she'd been out here before), but since her human was taking refuge in the house, she dutifully made her way back in and back upstairs to where her human slept. She did that thrice today, so she has earned her wings and will be allowed to transit the door ajar until it cools too much to allow it to stand open. Then, they will put the human doorman back to work.
As it is now, I'm on doorman's holiday.
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Post by Moose on Aug 25, 2022 5:05:53 GMT
I am just catching up on all this ... have missed it.
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Post by whollygoats on Sept 18, 2022 19:19:04 GMT
So...We thought it has all been going swimmingly.
Now, we are confused. All is not as it seemed.
It's been some three weeks since everybody was allowed free roaming privileges. It all seemed well. Buster Muffikins had pretty much integrated into the existing pride. He'd engage now and then, but it seemed to be on 'playful' grounds. Molly seemed to come and go. I noted that she was spending time hanging around out front and I hypothesized that since my seniors hung out on the balcony and prolly dominated the back garden, she'd found a place where she could be outdoors and have her own perch to command. Now, from the humans' perspectives (and they communicated this to each other) it seemed as though Molly and Murray had an interest in each other. They were often seen 'eyeballing' each other from safe distances. Stalking each other. We joked that she was learning to trust me, the 'strange human' (whose home she was attempting to claim) in establishing safe passage through the front door to return to her refuge upstairs.
Well, today, I was out front and witnessed what I interpreted to be Murray trying to force Molly away. I thought she wanted to come in and opened the door and invited passage. Murray placed himself in the way. I admonished Murray and he ignored me. She ran off. Murray came in the open door. I carried a basket of laundry upstairs (her refuge), Murray followed me. Swimmer went down to entice Molly in. I came back down to allow Molly to feel comfortable going up. I warned about what I had seen, but Swimmer was still of the opinion they wanted to befriend each other. Moments later, that was proven wrong, as they came tumbling and caterwauling down the stairs, along the hallway, into the library where I was seated at the computer, and then out the open French doors to the balcony, with me finally upright and shouting at the caterwauling bundle of agitated feline furballs to disengage.
Molly escaped by jumping to the fence on to the neigbhor's shed and back out to the front outdoors. The library door was closed to the rest of the house and my seniors invited in. Swimmer enticed Molly back in the front door and upstairs again, this time without Murray lurking up there to ambush her.
I suspect that preconceptions about Molly and Murray are being revised and a new set of protocols will arise.
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Post by whollygoats on Sept 29, 2022 19:38:13 GMT
Molly has been offered daytime refuge upstairs with a closed door.
Then, when I retire with my bed littered with fuzzwad bedlumps, Molly's human comes down and lets her out the front door.
If, when I awaken, and I see the upstairs doorway ajar, I know Molly is out and about, and I check the front door. Half the time, Molly is waiting and hurtles past me and scampers upstairs to refuge. I shut the door behind her. She gets her outside time in the middle of the night when the seniors are abed with me, and Buster Muffikins gets to go upstairs and hang with his human. Since, Molly and Buster have had contretemps which required human intervention, so all is still not settled.
**sigh**
Join us today on our voyage into the fracas that is feline politics gone mad, "As The Fur Flies". Prolly should be sponsored by some flea shampoo...
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Post by Kye on Sept 29, 2022 19:44:17 GMT
Sounds complicated...
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Post by whollygoats on Sept 29, 2022 19:56:10 GMT
Yes. Very.
And 'closed door to the outside' season is hurtling at us. Since warm weather and more liberal outdoor privileges, they've had the balcony door ajar, so they've been able to come and go with considerable ease. My cold feet in the morning while I read my mail, listen to the news, and drink my tea, augurs for impeded cat traffic in the near future. The house does have multiple doors which have, to date, been underutilized in terms of isolating the conflicts, so options are still open.
Soon, the guest cats' human will be leaving for ten days to migrate to Disney and back. I will be left with all four felines and changing conditions.
Watch this space.
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Post by Kye on Sept 29, 2022 21:26:02 GMT
Good luck!
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Post by whollygoats on Oct 20, 2022 16:28:26 GMT
The change during Swimmer's absence was negligible so the access situation did not change.
We are still managing avoidance situations to keep Molly away from harassment while offering her some outdoor time each day. This means temporarily altering the indoor door scene.
But, yesterday, the external door, the French door in the library, just behind my PC work station, went from being ajar to being closed and latched. This means I am on the hook for opening the door, on demand, as needed. Today, I'm getting my workout as the seniors, Cleo and Murray hone their hoomin communications skills and run me through some 'door drills' to make sure I still respond as desired. I haven't seen Buster make much demand. Yet. He has mastered getting around the closed door to the upstairs, which protects Molly. He is fairly vocal about it. Sits right at the door and sings his demands. It's very clear and very direct. Open the door and he goes up. I understand this is acceptable, as he has a fragile relation with Molly which has improved over time recently. Still, he has been ejected from upstairs and tossed outside to do penance for upstairs behavior. Kittens, y'know...
Buster Muffikins, aka 'L'il Shit', has passed his first birthday. He is mellowing, particularly since his tutoring session.
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Post by Mari on Oct 23, 2022 9:41:04 GMT
Wow, you're so accommodating to the cats! I'm so glad mine only complain when their water is empty or they are stuck somewhere for too long. I tend to ignore that most of the time to be honest, because they should just come when I call them if they want to be in the room I'm in that desperately. Instead Tybbe tends to stay on the stairs looking at me calling him in the living room, ignoring me, then starts meowing after I sat down and got comfy.
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Post by whollygoats on Nov 1, 2022 18:42:37 GMT
I signed a service contract.
Well, the rains started in earnest and the only change I've seen is that cats coming in are now wet.
Molly has devolved into the 'fraidy cat' who skulks out under the protection of a human, then, when she wants to come in, she malingers near the less trafficked door (the front door) awaiting not just somebody to open the door, but somebody to set it up so that she needn't confront any of the other felines in the house. That's the front screen door, the door, the door to the upstairs all open and no lurking felines or threatening humans within sight (that means clear back to the French doors in the library). It all needs to be clear before she will re-enter the house and dash straight to her upstairs refuge. Of course, she sees fit to trawl the outdoor border with the neighbors, initiating conflict with Bart, the next door black cat. (On another note, it seems that Buster may be trolling the young Siamese cat from the other side of the block.) She won't face down the house natives, but she'll go next door and rattle their cage....**sigh**
Cat politics - Sometimes it plum evades me.
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Post by whollygoats on Nov 12, 2022 2:45:31 GMT
Well, the price of allowing Buster to roam came home to roost this week. He was noticed to be sporting a swollen abscess high on his right bicep. He got a rush trip to the vet to have the abscess drained and antibiotic treatment. The vet said it looked like a bite wound. That involved shaving the spot and a stitch, so he's strolling about the house looking a mite raffish, whining about not being allowed outdoors.
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Post by JoeP on Nov 12, 2022 11:08:10 GMT
Silly boy.
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Post by whollygoats on Nov 26, 2022 1:32:23 GMT
The silly boy managed to be an utter pest, mooning at the window and whining at the door, pining to go outdoors. We kept him in for the course of the antibiotic and to make sure the wound was healing well before allowing him to return to his footloose ways. (Keep in mind that when he came here, he was designated a 'strictly indoor cat'. Yeah, as if.)
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Post by Moose on Nov 26, 2022 1:58:29 GMT
They never do appreciate the fact that we spend a fortune, and worry horribly, whenever something happens to them that needs treatment. They just moan about the stitches or the collar or the restrictions.
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Post by whollygoats on Nov 27, 2022 0:59:16 GMT
Oh, I don't know about that. I'd say that both my pair show their gratitude. In the change from nice weather to foul, Cleo has become a lot more accommodating and 'flirty'. She loves to keep me company in the loo. She's still loud and demanding, but she now allows me to give her tummy rubs without shredding my hand. This is an advance. Murray is a discerning gourmand and is very thankful that we now have four (4! count 'em!) separate food bowls, two upstairs, and two on the main floor. There's weight control, tooth care, sensitive tummy, and regular chicken, all dry foods. Murray, when allowed, regularly plies the Tour de Bowls and makes sure that the humans are thanked with head butts and opportunities to run their fingers through his luxuriant winter coat. (But, he still hates carriers, flea treatments, and crinkling of plastic wrap.)
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