Cats, Cats, Cats

(I imagine this sung to the tune of Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls."  Anyone who grew up during that era can now thank me for putting that song into your head.  You're welcome.)

Last weekend, I mentioned that I had an orange tabby house-guest named Eddy.  Unfortunately I only got to enjoy his company for a couple of days because he was very constipated.  Out of concern for his health, the shelter clinic staff told me to bring him in, and to leave him there with them.  I did get the good news that he went home with his regular foster mum on Tuesday, though, so I was pleased.  Let me just say that Eddy was a sweet, sweet cat.  He was quiet and non-pushy, but came out to greet me immediately any time that I entered the room.  When I laid down on the bed to either spend time with him or take a nap (or sleep in there his first night) he would purr up a storm and lay down on the pillow next to mine.

I actually now have some new fosters in the house.  Well, they've been here for exactly one week, but I've just been negligent about posting it.   They're both older cats, and need to have a place to relax for awhile while they regrow some hair - they have miliary dermititis.   They were completely terrified of me, the house, and everything for the first couple of days that they were here.  They stayed under the bed, my only comfort being that the food I'd set out for them was disappearing on a regular basis, and they were creeping out at night to use the litter boxes (thank God.)

Well, they've conquered their fear of our house, are out from under the bed and are now relaxing and enjoying life.  Tom supervises everything I do when I'm in their room, and insists on getting petted and talked to constantly.  Junior is more quiet and laid-back, but will gently head-butt me in the face when I get down to her level.

Tom

Junior.  Who is, despite the name, a girl.

My own cats are being much more patient with the idea of fosters in the house this time around.  We don't let them mix constantly, but there have been a couple of brief encounters when someone would run in or out of the foster room.  There was mild hissing, but nothing like the fireworks that happened when we first got Patches and Mitchell last year.  Or heaven forbid when we got the kittens in December.  Maybe they've become resigned?  Maybe for some reason Tom and Junior seem to be less of a threat?

Charlotte approves of the new basket blanket.

It would be fabulous if they would become more accepting of fosters...  it would make the entire process easier for all of us.

Charlotte is still doing well off of her medicine, by the way.  She's now been off of everything except for the aspirin since last Saturday...  so 8 days.  I still have to rein myself in every morning; my hand automatically goes to the medicine cabinet where we have her bottle of lasix stored.

In all of this, the dogs have been very patient as well.  Perhaps it's because they've heard us talking about a certain trip that we'll be taking with them in late April.  I'll make another post about it, since some of the dog people may not have read to the end of this cat-centric post, but is anyone going to Greyhounds in Gettysburg?  There's two big greyhound events every year; GIG in the spring, and Greyhounds Reach the Beach at Dewey Beach in the fall.  We talked it over, and decided that for a first time, GIG is better for us.  It is only four hours away, as opposed to eight.  Not sure that I'm ready for an 8 hour drive that skirts Washington D.C. with two dogs in the back of the car.

Anyway, good night, all!  Take care of yourselves.