It’s been 48 hours and if I did not know better, I would swear this is not the same cat we took home from the Humane Society. He’s such a happy little guy, and so funny - with serious snuggle-gravity. If you come into my office and hold still long enough, you WILL have a cat head purring on your arm/leg/hand/foot/leg/what have you, really. He doesn’t necessarily want to be in your lap, but he very much enjoys a good cuddle and he will NOT BE DENIED.
Since yesterday’s post, we have added a new exciting item to the list of Stuff That’s Wrong With This Cat: in addition to the upper respiratory infection, the tiny white scars, the missing leg, the gimpy toe, and the questionable eye… this dude is also missing a fang. Because of course he is. ::throws hands in the air::
Also, that’s not your imagination. He uh, does not look like a neutered male. He just looks…male. He has the little blue dot tattoo that says he’s been fixed and everything, but they sure did leave him with enough to flash obscenely, I tell you what. (Honestly it’s just hilarious, and we do not care.)
To date, he has correctly concluded that Greyson is harmless and cowardly, and that Lucy is The Boss. He’s still deciding what to do with this information, but he and Lucy are making good progress. No one has been hissed at or swatted since yesterday, despite the fact that we’ve left the office door open all day - with the baby-gate shut - and while the dogs have done little drive-by visits, they seem to be adjusting to the idea that this is the new guy, and he lives here now, and it’s really not that exciting overall.
Yet.
He’ll be holding Greyson snuggle-hostage in no time flat; today they came within about 2 inches of a nose-boop through the gate before Greyson chickened out and ran off. But Lucy… hm. Lucy wants to play with him. And he wants to play with Lucy, specifically her tail. This little guy plays gently with people, but roughly with toys. Lucy plays gently with people, but roughly with toys - and other animals. There will be a period of negotiation here, and we will (a). have to let them sort that out for themselves, while (b). keeping a close eye on it.
But for now, all’s well. Husband spent the first night upstairs, I did it last night, and we’re swapping out again tonight. We’ll do another closed door overnight, then leave it open (but closed baby gate) all day tomorrow, too. If everything continues on its presently chill trajectory… then we’ll leave the door open overnight (baby gate closed) and see what happens. The cat could through the gate if he wanted to; maybe he’ll enjoy checking out the scenery a little while it’s nice and quiet. Lucy sleeps downstairs in the basement bathroom. She wouldn’t hear him for awhile. Greyson is half deaf these days, and probably wouldn’t hear him at all.
Or that’s the plan for now, though we’ll adjust as needed. At the moment we’re taking our time and letting him acclimate to the rhythm of the household - our routines, the new sounds he’s likely to hear, the ups and downs of the dogs coming and going, etc.
He’s getting quite comfortable, as you can see.
In this picture, you can really get a look at the sad state of his fur. Everything except for his head, legs, and tail is so terribly threadbare - it’s pure undercoat, as soft as down, and petting him is not very different from petting a hairless cat, if you’ve ever met one of those. He feels like a suede hot water bottle with a little peach fuzz. And yes, his tail looks fluffy here, but even that is half naked, too - the hair is longer, but very thin and patchy.
Anyway, I say all that to say this: there’s a much floofier cat inside this little fellow than we’d initially suspected.
While I’m discussing the state of the cat, I should note that he’s also been getting more exercise than he’s likely had since his amputation. It only happened about a month ago, and since then, he’s been either in the veterinary hospital or a shelter; he hasn’t had any room to run/jump/climb or test his abilities with three legs rather than four, but he’s gaining some confidence leaping up and down off the bed, the windowsill, the cabinet, my desk, etc.
I’ve ordered him a window seat like the one Quinnie had. It’ll be here in a day or two. I suspect that it will be a big hit.
Oh, and I suppose I should close out with the Official Name of Record. Ahem.
Behold, I give you “Monty.”
For Montague, because he’s a lover; for Montgomery, because “Monty Got a Raw Deal” (if you GenXers were REM fans, and if you remember that one). Bonus: due to the missing limb, he flashes the full Monty 100% of the time, like it or not, better get used to it. And extra bonus: our long-time vet’s name is Montgomery, so yes, we basically named this cat with a word cloud.
And what of it. It suits the little gentleman perfectly.