Colby and Thimble Go to the Vet

Apricot was miffed at me. Here I'd seen the error of my ways and put both kittens into the carrier and left, and then I brought them back.

I was only thinking of Thimble's discomfort in a larger space, so I should use the carrier to take them to the vet. I forgot that Apricot's only experience (deliberately on my part) with a carrier was going to and from a shelter. He'd gone to the vet in a front pack. Oops.

Oh well, he forgave me by suppertime.

cvz (that was Thimble. He and Colby are on the computer desk, learning not to step on the keyboard or chew the covered wires.They are both rather damp. Ginger's method of aversion training was a squirt bottle of water, and it works very well, when Thimble isn't being persistent, anyway.)

So, to the actual visit.

Colby and Thimble got stuffed into the carrier together and taken to the vet that way. But even in the carrier Thimble protested. Not constantly like he was carsick, just every so often, like "I don't wanna!"

I'm seeing a new vet at my same vet place. Pippin's vet went to a branch of the same practice that's closer to where she lives, and while I can't blame her, I do miss her. The vet I took Apricot to is all very nice, but she's very, um, exuberant and it's exhausting for this already-stressed autistic person to be around her.

So I tried a new doctor. I asked if she'd be okay if I took pictures, and she was. I also made sure the computer screen in the room was on "blank" or standby so I wouldn't accidentally post any critical or private information.

The carrier with the kittens in it

 First we opened the carrier and Thimble came out within five seconds of the door opening. Colby, as usual, hung back to let Thimble do the heavy lifting of figuring out what was what out there. So Dr. Duncan did Thimble's exam first. He is a healthy kitty weighing 4.9 pounds.

Thimble getting examined and
not thinking much of it.

 By then Colby ventured out, just in time to get poked and prodded himself. He is another healthy kitty weighing 4.6 pounds. Not unexpected; he's not that far behind Thimble but he's never caught up to him yet. (Watch him end up the larger cat.)

Dr. Duncan (who is cheerful but not scarily
exuberant like my other vet) and Colby,
getting a heart check.

 Then we had to wait while she went and got an assistant and the shots. See, it used to be a lot easier to give kitties shots. The vets used the loose skin at the base of the neck and it was like getting a shot in your butt. Lots of muscle and fat to absorb the needle-prick.

But then, they discovered that there was an unsettling correspondence between the incidence of cancer and the location of the vaccination sites. This is not something that happens with humans. Cats are scarily vulnerable to getting cancer and no one yet knows why.

So they started a protocol where each shot goes in a different leg. This way if a large number of cancers arise in cats' left legs, they know which vaccine to blame. (They've also removed the adjuvant from most vaccines because that seemed to have an effect on the incidence of cancer. I say "seemed" because you can never prove anything with 100% certainty in science. However, when something has a high correlation, and you can remove it, you might as well. It makes the vaccines more expensive because they have to be stored different, but hey, it's worth it.)

Anyway, the other benefit is, if your kitty does get a vaccine related carcinoma, they can amputate the leg. I know it sounds terrible, but cats honestly don't care. I actually know someone who had to have this done, and he said he had more trouble with it emotionally than his kitty did. She makes her way around the house same as she always did, smacks the dogs when they get fresh, mostly acts just like before. The only difference he's noticed is that she's discovered leaning against a human's leg gives her more stability, so now he and his wife have to be careful which cat is leaning against them because if it's her, they need to give her some warning to take her balance back before they just leave.

Thimble and Colby exploring. They aren't
big enough yet to jump off the counter.

Thimble had been so good during his exam where he got poked and prodded all over that he had the doctor snookered. When she gave him his second shot, he objected mightily and tried to leave. He didn't offer violence or anything like that; just struggled so suddenly that he managed to pull the needle out without all the rabies vaccine going into him. She looked at the remnant in the syringe and sighed. Well, she said, the amount is the same no matter how much they weigh, so he's got plenty in his system.

Colby's shots went off without a hitch, partially because I reached underneath and grabbed a back leg to stabilize him more. You know, the detriment of having a shot in your leg is like if we got a shot in our ankle versus the butt. Much less padding to assist in the pain relief, so it hurts more to give them shots in their legs. It's worth it, though.

Thimble on top of Colby again.
Sort out whose legs are whose ...

It was 11 when we got back and that's normally when they slow down to begin with. After that exhausting experience, they sacked out quicker than normal. I gathered up Thimble (because I could reach him--he was on the lower curve of the cat tree in the picture above) and held him while he slept.

When I had to move, I put him back on the cat tree where I'd gotten him from. I consider this only polite. Having woken him up, he decided that Colby really needed a wash, and climbed up onto him and proceeded to wash him. Whether Colby liked it or not!

Later ... That is how Colby normally sleeps.

I haven't been getting enough sleep, so I lay down on the settee to get a nap. Colby, seemingly a bit miffed that he'd missed out on sleeping on top of me earlier, came over first and curled up across my hips and stomach.

Then in about a half an hour I was woken from my barely-snooze by Thimble joining him and lying across my chest. He had his paws out in the direction of my neck, and when he fell asleep and started dreaming, his soft little paws kept twitching under my chin. 

Needless to say I didn't get any deep sleep. I was, however, quite warm. Which was nice.

At suppertime, after I ate I put the Rowdy Boys in the pink room and shut the door and played with Apricot with the feathers. He seemed to greatly appreciate this, not really in how much he played, but just in having the time with me. Earlier while the boys were still out in the living room but asleep, he'd come into the kitchen and asked for some kitchen cuddle time, which, since I love that, I was perfectly happy to provide him. 

And then I let them out again, and Colby has gone to sleep in the "new toy" box, and Thimble is asleep between the keyboard (which he is slowly learning not to touch) and the mouse. This means when I reach over to move my mouse, it's vaguely furry on the side where his tail is against it. 

Since it's the last night of the year, people are already setting off fireworks. It's four hours to midnight, people! Save your money and do it closer to the actual New Year? Oh well. The kittens don't seem too upset. I need to go check on Apricot, but I think he'll be okay.

An Arrangement Has Been Reached

Last night, as I was standing at the kitchen counter making my supper, someone brushed by my legs. As I looked down, I remember being a bit confused. Apricot was ensconced in his cat tree; the Rowdy Boys had just left the kitchen at high speed due to the new sound of the microwave coming on. (I don't worry about them and new sounds; it alarms them and they shake off the alarm and come back.)

I figured maybe Thimble? But it had felt too high up my leg, and too heavy for that, yet it couldn't possibly be ... Apricot looked up at me, all innocent. "Hi!"

He'd come down, made his way across a living room floor with a kitten minefield on it, just to come in and say hi. Well, someone got petted and praised and phooey on the supper prep!

Since that time, he's been up and down on his own decision, not letting himself be corralled by the kittens. Apparently, an arrangement has been reached.

This video was last night, around 7 pm.

He'll walk through the house, slightly hunched still, and sometimes the others will come over to him and sometimes they won't. Thimble isn't always instantly going toward him now. I've seen him meet both kittens (separate times) face to face, with only minimal growl and no hiss. Apparently the growl is the "medium" warning and the hiss is the "large" warning for him. I thought it would be the other way around.

Colby's the only one who has growled at him, and even that didn't happen this morning when they met face to face in the kitchen. I came back from my walk, and Apricot came to be my upside-down kitty, despite the fact that both kittens were in the kitchen on one of the cat trees, looking out the window (looking for me? They'd seen me leave the house this time).

The kittens are fascinated by Apricot, and they both came down from the cat tree and made their way over to him. Colby got there first, and met him head-on. A warning low growl from Apricot and no comment from Colby, and the two separated amicably and went on their way.

Colby managed to get a sniff in on Apricot's tail, too. I think tail-sniffing is a "safe" way to, well, research another a cat. Kind of like doing an online check (facebook, etc) for someone if they ask you on a date. It's not quite as risky as asking directly! Apricot sniffed Thimble's tail too, when Thimble got himself stuck above Apricot yesterday.

And today, although Apricot is in his Thinking Spot, he's sleeping (or pretending to) while the kittens are playing, which is not something he was doing Monday. He wouldn't even sleep when they fell asleep on Monday. Furthermore, he was thirsty, so he came down and got himself a drink from the fountain.

While he was down, he came over to the opposite side of the living room and said hello to me before heading back up to the top of the cat tree. I think right now he may be on top of the cat tree for the same reason I'm sitting in the settee. It's where we go in the morning (when I'm not at work, asleep, or doing chores, that is.)

This is most promising and far faster than I had anticipated.

Next the Rowdy Boys have to go to the vet today for their 12 week shots. They aren't quite 12 weeks old yet. That will be tomorrow, on New Year's Day. But the vet isn't open tomorrow, and the one I want to see isn't working Friday, so we're going today.

Just now, Apricot came down from the cat tree and went over to the litter box box to look out. Colby is sacked out on the middle cat tree and Thimble is on the floor, intently watching Apricot.

Thimble Gets Himself Into Trouble

Thimble, bless his heart, is a born leader. Or at least he thinks so. Luckily he's got a born follower in Colby, who has no problem letting Thimble go first, be on top (sometimes literally), but still can be friends with him (Colby pounces on Thimble just as much as the other way around, and the washing happens in both directions. Thimble protests more, though.)

So Thimble wants to be friends with Apricot, which is good, but he wants to be top friend, which is not so good. Apricot would probably, eventually, let him. I'm not going to let that happen if I have a say so in it.

This is all to explain why Thimble got himself into trouble.

I went over to pet Apricot. He emerged from the Observation Deck (where he'd retreated to earlier today after the drama) and stretched. Thimble saw this and decided that meant Apricot was ready to receive visitors again, and ran over to introduce himself, again.

Apricot retreated back into the Observation Deck like a turtle into his shell, and proceeded to growl at the approaching Thimble.

Not daunted, Thimble climbed up the cat tree till he was on the same level as Apricot. Who hissed very severely at him. Thimble wanted to approach, but Apricot was having none of that. So Thimble compromised and stepped up onto the next level.

Apricot disapproved but not enough to come out and say so physically. (If Apricot was a human he'd be a pacifist.) So Thimble felt quite proud of himself, and sat there looking like he'd won something. I just waited for him to find out it wasn't quite the victory he thought.

Victory at last.

Colby, down on the floor, had been waiting patiently, lying in a curl, the way he has been doing when Thimble is "talking" to Apricot. Now, since Thimble wasn't discussing things with Apricot anymore (the growling had stopped as the situation was static), Colby got bored. His playmate wasn't around, but there were plenty of toys. He started playing quite thoroughly with a toy.

Thimble saw this and decided playtime would be a good idea. He went to leave, and discovered the flaw in his plan as Apricot noticed movement and started hissing like a steam kettle and growling like a steam engine.

Thimble was going to have to step down over where Apricot was in order to get down. And he really didn't think that was such a good idea at this juncture. So, reluctantly, he settled back onto his platform, no longer by choice, and watched as Colby had fun without him.

The slow process of getting himself out
of the trouble he'd gotten into.

Finally, as the steam ran down in the Apricot engine, Thimble mustered enough courage to step over him and down off the cat tree. He came over to me (I'd been watching the whole time) and I ignored him, instead going over to Apricot and crooning sympathies and praise to him.

This is how I'm doing my best to support Apricot; when they are interacting, he gets praise, and Thimble gets ignored or talked to in a warning tone of voice. I'm not sure how much I can do with this. Apricot thinks I'm a giant deformed cat, and is perfectly willing to defer to me. Thimble knows I'm a human and is still trying to figure out who rules the roost (he tries to groom me, I make him stop, but I "groom" him by petting him, which he enjoys).

As I was writing this, the rowdy boys are asleep on the settee where I had been before nature called, and now I am over at the computer desk. Apricot came down from the Observation Deck and came to me, stretching himself out as he went. This is about the time I usually come home from work and we have our routine of petting in the kitchen, so I went in there and sat down like I would normally, and he agreed that was an excellent idea.

He curled up against me and I petted and petted and he even mustered a purr from somewhere in his wary little body. And he did this knowing that Thimble and Colby were in the next room, albeit asleep. He wouldn't have done that even yesterday.

So he came back in the living room and was on the floor by the vent where he likes to be, and then the phone rang and Colby and Thimble woke up. Apricot decided he wanted to be safely on the cat tree and made his slow, cautious way across the entire living room to his cat tree.

Thimble, for the first time, left him alone and just watched. I think perhaps he learned something earlier.

Not entirely, because once Apricot was safely on the cat tree, Thimble went over and climbed it again, to see if perhaps this time Apricot would be friends. Also, he wanted to check out the Observation Deck that he'd seen Apricot spend so much time in. Apricot hissed and growled warning at him, so Thimble stopped at the Deck level and curled up in the Deck, to see what it was like. Apricot looked over at me with a kind of baffled, where'd he go? but then Thimble stuck a bit of himself outside the Deck and Apricot could see him again.

Thimble doesn't fill the Deck yet like Apricot does. Eventually he'll be too big to fit in there comfortably, although given what I've seen of what they consider comfortable, I wouldn't bet on it.

Well, Thimble decided it wasn't happening tonight and he made his way down and over to me where I was sitting and watching with Colby on my lap. Thimble wanted to be there so he simply sat down on top of Colby. Sometimes Colby puts up with it and sometimes he doesn't, and this time was a time he didn't. My legs weren't good enough to stay on down farther (no blanket across them to bridge the gap, you see) and after he fell off once in either direction, he decided that was a no-go.

Colby looks up at the cat tree with Apricot on the Thinking Spot, the highest perch, and I could visibly see him decide that if Thimble was doing it, so could he. And he went over and climbed up the cat tree, from one level to the next, till he got to the Ops Deck level. Apricot had been (pretending  or not, I don't know) snoozing but he saw him then.

Colby hadn't seen the view out the window yet, and he was totally mesmerized by it, forgetting why he'd come up here in the first place. He climbed onto the secondary perch, the one right below Apricot, and was looking out, his whole body absorbed in the view.

Apricot growled and gave a warning hiss over top of the growl. Colby flinched back and looked up, remembering, oh, yeah, the big orange cat, that's why I came up here. He tried to straighten up, but got hissed at every time he moved, so, unlike Thimble, he quickly decided this was a very bad idea and left. He didn't run, but he moved hastily enough to give Apricot the notion that he'd left directly due to Apricot's hissing at him.

Apricot seems rather pleased with himself. Thimble, who was on my lap this whole time, had tensed up when the encounter began, but relaxed once Colby left with no harm done. That's actually what I'm afraid of right now; that Colby will decide to push it, but without Thimble's fine-tuned sense of what he can get away with, he'll get himself into trouble with Apricot (like a smack, if Apricot actually goes there) and Thimble will launch into defense mode.

Apricot Descends From On High

My wary, scared, used-to-be-feral cat has initiated contact, of his own accord.

At 10:30 this morning (or thereabouts) both kittens suddenly stopped playing with their individual toys and froze, vision oriented on something behind me. The only time they did this before was when Apricot came out of the kitchen and accidentally encountered Thimble.

Could it be? Had he really emerged from his Observation Deck?

This morning, before I let the kits out, he'd come into the bedroom and had his breakfast when I called "Apricot, I'm up," which is the usual procedure and one he hadn't done since the kittens arrived.

But he'd stuck himself in his Observation Deck right after that, with kind of a wince and a grimace--okay, let them out. So I'd let them out before I went for my walk, which meant everybody was together unsupervised for an hour. There were no signs of disaster when I came back, but no signs of progress, either.

I turned around, hoping ... I don't know what, really. And there was Apricot, on the floor, coming around the edge of the living room entrance. His shoulders were humped as if against a blow, not the "cat-puff" attitude, and his eyes were hugely dilated. He was looking at the kittens, both frozen in place and staring at him, but he was also looking at me.

I'd begun praising him the minute I saw he was down on the same level as they, and of his own accord. He wasn't surprised this time; he'd known where they were. He seemed to glance over to his hammock, so I held my hand over it, palm down and cupped, the symbol for come pet yourself / come on over.

And warily, he did. He jumped into the hammock and lay down.

Well, this didn't last long, because Thimble never knows when to leave well enough alone. The minute Apricot lay down, Thimble came over, making slow headwinds against the low rumbling growl coming from Apricot. Thimble pretended he had no designs on Apricot but was instead fascinated with the fuzzy ball hanging off the bottom of the hammock. See, I'm just playing with this! I'm a kitten. I play, it's what I do.

Apricot wasn't buying it, and when Thimble wouldn't back off, Apricot did instead. During this retreat he encountered Colby, who for the most part was letting Thimble do all the hard work. Colby, unlike Thimble (who has yet to utter a sound in Apricot's direction) growled back at Apricot. Then again, I've also heard Colby growl while having a toy in his mouth; no one trying to take said toy, just walking around holding the toy and growling. Apricot cowered back, not appreciating being growled at, and I said frowny things at Colby and encouraging things at Apricot, turning my head and using names to make sure they understood who I approved of growling and who I didn't.

I don't know if Colby got the point or not, because this is when Apricot decided to retreat back to the cat tree with the Observation Deck. He didn't go into the Observation Deck, though; he went all the way to the top post, his Thinking Post, instead.

Again, Thimble won't leave well enough alone and goes after him. He climbed up on the cat tree, going from level to level up the tree. Apricot's growl got louder the higher he got. I told Apricot that if Thimble tried to get close enough to swat, he (Apricot) had my full permission to bop him (Thimble) on the head.

Apricot stares down disapprovingly at Thimble

Thimble never tried to put paws on Apricot's perch, nor did he even rise up on his back legs and do "prayer cat" to get higher. He did, however, go all the way to the second highest perches, and there he stayed, pretending to be fascinated with the tree outside the window. Thimble waited, looking out the window, until Apricot gave up and stopped growling at him.

Thimble is pretending he has no designs
on Apricot. None whatsoever. 

At some point in here the two of them were looking at each other and they were both cat-blinking friendship signals, which may have been what motivated Thimble to try again ...

Thimble tried to approach again, one more time, and this time got hissed at quite indignantly. I think Apricot was saying, "look, you, I've told you time and time again to back off, when are you going to get the idea?!" Thimble crouched down and made himself flat and small on the perch when he got hissed at.

The hiss stopped, and Thimble popped back up like a jack-in-the-box toy. Apricot just watched him. And Thimble decided that, yes, he really had pushed things as far as they were going to go right now, and he made his way down off the cat tree, leaving Apricot in possession of it.

Colby, through all this, lay in a coil in the middle of the living room floor, watching.

So I could feel the tension (and in fact, said something like, "that was wonderful guys but let's not do it again for a little while till we can all calm down") and Thimble, to relieve his tension, went over and body pounced Colby, and the two of them had a rousing game of Head Tackle and Who's On Top.

Apricot actually put his head down and currently is looking from here like he's resting!

Wow. I didn't really expect anything like this for another day or so. I'm so glad I did all that research on Way of Cats' blog so I could tell what was going on between them. And it's funny how Colby is once again following Thimble's lead on everything.

Movie Watching (and Random Things)

I'm writing this Tuesday mid-day, but it's about last night's event, so I put that I was writing it early this morning. You can change the publish time like that.

Last night I got one of my dearest wishes.

I decided to try to watch a movie after supper, in the hopes that this would lure one or both kittens in with me and leave Apricot the house while still having them "loose."

Colby never showed up.

Thimble, on the other hand, came in, and jumped up on the sofa with me. After some negotiation which involved Thimble invoking his mother and trying to play with my hair (I leaned forward, same as I do when Apricot tries to groom my hair, and that put an end to that), Thimble settled down on my lap, curled up against me, and fell asleep.

He stayed there through the whole movie.

I have wanted this so badly. Apricot's short jaunts as a lap cat were nice, but this is what I wanted. Long term, warm purring weight in my lap. Thimble made me so content that I honestly don't remember much of the movie!

***

So both kittens have figured out the fountain and how to drink from it without becoming unnecessarily wet.

A kick-toy that I got way back when Pippin was a kitten is finally being put to its intended use. Both Colby and Thimble have figured out you grab the fluffy tail of it and kick the stuffed body part hard. And sometimes the kitten doing the rabbit-kicking gets pounced on by the other kitten, and things deteriorate into an all-out fight from there.

I wonder if they'll ever actually fight with each other. I worried about being able to tell play-fight from real, but so far, it's easy. Their playfights never last long and are always silent.

I've had to use the spray bottle already. Mostly on Thimble. There have been attempts to scratch the chair by both kittens, and Thimble had a love affair with the sheer curtain that's pinned back so they can see out either side. He hasn't shown any signs of wanting to play with it today.

And apparently yesterday's play for four hours wasn't always the way things go, because today they settled down after three, and fell asleep in my lap. Thimble always is the one closest to me and Colby the one farther down my legs, and Thimble is always the one on top, because to fit they have to overlap a bit.

I let Colby slide down between my knees a bit
so he wasn't quite so squashed.

The First Full Day of Three Cats

Since I slept half of Sunday, that doesn't really count as a full day.

This morning, after my walk, Apricot put himself into the Observation Deck and showed no signs of leaving.

Scared eyes.

Well, okay then. Since he seemed to expect it, I let the kittens out. This time I just let them walk down the hall on their own, and didn't use the CarGo at all. Thimble doesn't like it and it doesn't seem to help Apricot any to have them in there.

Thimble and Colby aren't quite sure what to make of the fountain. They seem to get the concept that it's to drink out of, but they aren't sure how. Colby got a wet chin trying.

They played. And played. And played. For hours. I was beginning to think Apricot had a good point. Just watching them was exhausting. Sure, and it was fun too, watching them tumble over toys and things. But wearing, nonetheless. (Still glad I have two and they aren't looking to me for playtime!)

I had a cheap toy from Pippin's childhood hooked into the bottom area of the cat tree Apricot was in. This toy is a simple wire with cardboard twists at both ends. The fun comes when you pounce on one end, then the other end moves. I've never seen two cats play with it, but that was even more fun to watch.

Well, it was fun once I got it off the cat tree, and onto another one that Apricot wasn't occupying, but I realized this too late and Apricot skedaddled for the kitchen and the safety of the green tunnel cat tree. I'm getting the feeling that Apricot has put two and two together and realized that the kittens have a tendency to stay wherever I am.

This is true. I like to have my cats hang out near me ... I just want all three, not two out of the three.

But I got the wire with its tantalizing cardboard twists onto the other cat tree, and this provided long minutes of entertainment.

See the brown thingy on Thimble's paw?
That's one of the ends.

This picture was taken after 2.5 hours of play, and Colby was tired. Thimble had tired out long before and rested, so he was ready to go again when Colby tired out for the first time. I notice that Colby seems to have more play-stamina than Thimble. 

Finally, around 11:30 they wore out at the same time, and decided my lap was the place to crash. I'll say this for kittens; they may play non-stop but when they do stop, they're down for the count.

My legs are propped up on the
facing chair, and I have
kittens all the way to my ankles.

Colby, dear little thing, sleeps in the oddest positions ... 

He is fast asleep.
Those are Thimble's back feet by his head.

Well, then they woke up, and nothing would do but that mutual grooming should commence. But as for moving off my lap--whyever should they bother?

The mutual grooming was hilarious to watch. Both of them washed each other. Both of them objected to being washed by the other. Thimble got less objections from Colby than the other way around. 

This is Thimble getting minor objections from Colby.

This one below, is Colby getting major objections from Thimble.

The washing session deteriorated into a full on fight.

I let them fight on my lap. But I did think about it. Did I want them doing this as full grown cats? Well, the thing of it is, I don't think they'll fight like this as full grown cats. Plus, when they get that big, they won't be able to stay on my lap to fight. And all I have to do is get up and walk off. It's not like they're using claws (that I could feel, anyway) and the biting is restricted to each other. 

Apparently Thimble's ears are tasty.

But Ginger said to make sure Apricot was sleeping when the kittens slept, and he wasn't (I checked and he was still all wide-eyed. I'd kind of used kitten presence to get him back into the living room earlier ... I'd feel guilty, but I know myself that anxiety only gets worse the more you hide from it). So I put the kittens away around two, I guess.

Apricot has come down and been friendly to me, although still a bit skittish. He's slept, and groomed. I don't think he's eaten yet, and I don't know about the water intake. He's worrying me, to be honest.

This is a strain on my anxiety levels, not only worrying about him, but simply getting used to the sheer presence and energy levels of Colby and Thimble. I'm glad I have carte blanche to "put them away" when I'm getting too tired to have them around. Of course I also feel guilty at isolating them, since their enjoyment of my presence is so very obvious and their reluctance to be put back in the pink room is also obvious (another pair of squirmy kitties this afternoon on the trip back there).

I just hope we all get used to each other soon. I have less than a week before I have to go back to work, and I'd like to be able to let the kittens roam the house while I'm at work without worrying about Apricot's reactions.

Thimble and Colby Come Home Part III: Introductions

When I got up, after lunch, I went into the pink room to hang out with Thimble and Colby for a little while. I sat on the guest bed, which is a daybed, and leaned against the pillows which are piled up to my shoulder height. And I played games on my phone.

Colby decided the pillows were an excellent place to view the phone. He climbed up me and over my shoulder and onto the pillows so his butt was resting on the pillows and his front half was resting on my shoulders. Since he seemed so very fascinated with the phone, I held it up closer to him. Cats are very near-sighted anyway.

At the time I was checking in on Dragonvale. This has little animated dragons who live in habitats and make money. When a habitat has collected enough money for you to get easily, a little treasure chest appears floating, bobbing in the "air" above the habitat. You tap on it to get the money. There's a list at the top of how much you have in which game currency, and if you tap on those, you get an option to buy more, only using real money this time.

When I showed Apricot the phone with Dragonvale playing, he tried to catch the movement of things on the screen but his paws did nothing. It all comes of having fur between your toes; kept his skin from touching the screen, so the touchscreen didn't respond.

Maine Coons have fur between their toes, so I didn't think anything was going to happen when Colby reached out to the bobbing treasure chest. Apparently baby 'Coons don't have fur between their toes yet.

He not only collected my money for me, but he tapped on the "gems" (different kind of in-game currency) and brought up the "buy with real money" screen. I said, um, yeah, Colby, let's not have you buy gems for me with my own money, and put the phone back down where I could use it and he couldn't. He was disappointed. (Granted, I have in-app purchases disabled, just in case I have no self-control one day, but it's the principle of the thing.)

They are extremely social kitties and do not like being locked away by themselves. At least they do have each other. I got video of the two of them playing together. They like to play with toys, but for them, the other kitten counts as a toy!

I call this one Paddy Cake Paddy Cake Baker's POUNCE.

When I came back out, Apricot was (still or again) in the topmost level of the tallest cat tree in the living room. This tree is so tall that when he's on that spot, I have to stand on the hearth to reach him for a head kiss, and if he doesn't want one, all he has to do is turn around the other way, because I can't reach. This is actually nice because then I know he really does want one if he's turned where I can reach him, since the other rotation means he can look out the window.

He didn't seem inclined to come down any time soon. A text to Ginger got a response that perhaps it was the unknown that was freaking him out. This made sense--I don't like the unknown and it upsets my anxiety far worse than a known unpleasant thing would.

Apricot is astonished.

So I put the CarGo against the opposite wall so Apricot could see down into it, and got Thimble and Colby and put them in the CarGo. Of course, being me, I had forgotten that two sides of the four available were unzipped, so I had to keep kittens confined while closing both exits. This was challenging but I managed. There they were, visible through the mesh (and a lot more visible from above, I discovered later when I stood up and looked down at them from what was close to Apricot's vantage point.)

Thimble sees Apricot

Apricot was astonished. He had a look on his face that rather indicated that of all the things he thought that smell would mean, it certainly wasn't a pair of baby kittens! He stared down at them for the longest time. He did, however, look aside occasionally, and toward the end of the hour (previous conversation with Ginger gave me no-more-than-an-hour for inside the CarGo for the kittens) he was even doing slow eye blinks at them.

Thimble did not like being in the CarGo and meowed at me to tell me so. I ignored him. He had Colby and two other toys, and he should be fine. Colby didn't care; he had his brother and his toys and that was fine by him. Thimble gave up and started purring. Those two purr at the drop of a hat. I told my mother this was slightly insulting, considering one doesn't have to work at it to be rewarded by a purr. All I have to do is show up!

I was sitting with the laptop, writing the previous two Come Home stories, positioned halfway between Apricot's cat tree and the CarGo so I could keep an eye on everybody. Thimble and Colby played a little bit, but then fell asleep. Colby really went into deep sleep; I don't think Thimble did.

Because at the end of the hour, Apricot showed no signs of coming down, and no signs of further interest, either. So I opened the front of the CarGo and let the kittens come out and explore. Thimble came out almost immediately and went right (as in compared to left) into the hallway and the bathroom, where the toilet (lid down), got sniffed.

Colby sleeps silly!

Colby was sleeping with one paw tossed over his head. I've never seen a cat sleep like that. He was so far asleep that it took him a while to wake up and realize Thimble was gone. At that point, he was immediately awake and hunting down his brother. He followed in Thimble's footsteps (even sniffing the same spot on the toilet bowl) but then Thimble came back out of the living room where he'd gone in the other entrance (I have a weird living room / hallway junction. Just go with the flow here).

So Colby joined Thimble as they went down the hall and into the bedroom. My bedroom, not the pink room. Thimble made a short detour into the tv room but, envisioning kittens under the couch, I decided not, snagged his harness and put him back in the hall, and closed the door to the tv room. Assume in all future rambles today I've closed that door so he couldn't explore there.

Because Colby goes where Thimble goes. So if anyone's doing exploring, it's Thimble. Occasionally Colby will strike out on his own, but it's like hiking with someone. You may pause to look at the moss by the side of the trail, but you hurry up and catch up with the leader after the short side trip.

The two of them went into the bedroom, and then explored everywhere. (Well, not everywhere, actually; everywhere on floor level). They discovered you could go under the headboard from both sides of the bed (that's not going to last much longer as Apricot can barely make it through the one side). This was great fun, especially with the bedskirt covering the one entrance. There was some back and forthing with Thimble in under and Colby out in front, playing with each other's paws.

They discovered the cat stairs but not the final jump to the top of the bed. Mostly they discovered that one cat could be on the stairs and one underneath, and this was fun. (Again, something that depends on their size.)

They both sniffed Apricot's food and water but didn't taste either one. Colby discovered the litter box and went in, all but his tail, and backed out again. Apparently he reported on this to Thimble, because Thimble never bothered. Then again, Colby's the one with the fascination with my clear litterboxes!

Exploring my bedroom
Yes, I like Winnie-the-Pooh.

After they'd pretty much explored the whole room, I gathered them up and put them back in the pink room to give everybody a break.

***

Later the same day.

Apricot finally came down from the cat tree and started walking around. I was much relieved as he has shown a stubborn streak previously. (Like he never came down when my sister was in the house.) Speaking of stubborn, he hadn't eaten up until just a few minutes ago. I only infer that he ate something considering when I was eating supper he walked in licking his lips. But that was after all this happened that I am about to relate. (I wasn't too worried about the food thing. He's shown he has a fine-edged survival instinct about food. He may restrict his food intake when his anxiety is high, same as myself actually, but he won't let himself starve. He's got too many memories of what real hunger is like to do that. Er, I hope.)

Anyway, he'd come down and was being friendly cat to me. He seemed more relaxed and he lay down in the area of the living room which, thanks to a desk, has a kind of mini-hallway leading to the kitchen doorway.

So I decided, wisely or not, to push matters. I went and fetched Thimble and Colby again and put them in the CarGo, in its same position on the opposite side of the living room. This time Apricot was viewing it end-on, but I figured that wouldn't make a difference.

Once again Thimble let me know by meowing at me that he did not appreciate the CarGo. (I wonder if he'd be so opposed to it if I hadn't screwed up by putting them in it for the journey home.)

Apricot's ears pricked up. He stood up. For a second he wavered and then he walked toward them. I couldn't believe it. He actually covered about a third of the distance before thinking better of the notion and retreating all the way into the kitchen and onto one of the kitchen cat trees.

And there he seemed determined to stay. Keeping in mind his earlier behavior, where he'd stayed in the cat tree while they explored, I let them out to explore again.

This time they chose to explore the living room. This is Apricot's favorite room, the one where most all of his toys live scattered throughout the room, the room where he sleeps both during the day and, I suspect, at night. (I'm asleep when he goes to night-time-sleep, so I don't know for sure.)

I wonder if the reason they didn't explore it before was because he was watching them from the cat tree. They didn't seem to notice him up there, and it's possible they didn't know, since his scent would be all through the house and as long as he didn't move much, it wouldn't show much of a disturbance in the scent patter. I don't think anyway. My nose may be ultra-sensitive for a human but it's not anywhere in comparison to a cat.

Thimble and Colby were investigating not only the room and its contents, but also the trails of Apricot. They pinpointed every place where he spends a lot of time, and every toy got thoroughly sniffed, and occasionally played with but only for a little bit. As if they were nervous they might get yelled at by the owner of the toy!

Thimble's getting squashed again.

They liked the green cup stairway cat tree, and discovered you could be on the bookshelf beside it and one of you in the cup, and bat at each other back and forth. Thimble also discovered the toy hanging from the cup that's tucked back behind the last stair because it's a jingle toy and Apricot didn't like it jingling when he walked up to sleep in the green cup part. Thimble loves toys that jingle. The fact that it was semi-confined made it more fun, as he hadn't encountered that kind of thing before, I suspect.

I was standing at the end of the desk/wall minihallway and watching them, facing the living room with my side to the kitchen. Thimble came over and was standing over one of Apricot's favorite toys. It's a kick toy that I swear should be too small for him but it works somehow.

Thimble goes weird on me.

Thimble seemed taller and fluffier in the middle than usual. I reached down to pet him and realized he was arched and wary. Over a toy? Huh?

And then I heard a low hiss, from the side. I turned my head and there, against all expectation, stood Apricot in the doorway to the kitchen!

Thimble approached slowly and cautiously. Apricot let him get within the five feet boundary, and then hissed at him.

Thimble metaphorically threw up his hands to show he had no weapons and backed away very hastily.

Apricot retreated into the kitchen, having used up his limited store of bravery in that one show. But he didn't retreat before he saw Thimble retreat first, which is good.

Well, Apricot is back on the cat tree, and the kittens, Colby especially, are still interested in exploring. Colby had been on one of his side jaunts and hadn't noticed a lot of the interaction between Thimble and Apricot.

I let them keep exploring. I wanted to show Apricot when I gathered them up to "put them away" and I thought giving him some time to calm down before letting him see them again would be a good idea. Someone needs to tell me to stop thinking like that ...

Colby wandered into the kitchen but turned into the prep area, not the table area where the cat trees, and a ruffled Apricot, were. Okay, I'll let him ... and here comes Thimble. Who turns the other way and goes wandering under the table. Colby soon joins him, as usual.

Apricot was this time in the tunnel cat tree, since it's more protected. He was watching the kittens very closely. He watched silently as Thimble investigated my shoes.

Colby meandered across the five foot barrier Apricot seems to have decided on. It's about three feet up to where Apricot was, so Colby was very nearly at the base of the cat tree when Apricot decided all right, enough is enough!

Blurry, but all three cats are
in this picture. 

He hissed, and Colby wanted to back away but couldn't immediately figure out where the hiss came from. So since he didn't move fast enough to suit Apricot, he got the hiss followed by a low growl. First time I have ever heard Apricot growl.

Colby practically ran out of the kitchen, with Thimble on his heels. Apricot looked a little confused. He had a couple different expressions at the same time. Satisfaction that the invaders had left, bafflement that they'd obeyed him, and just a touch of ... disappointment? Perhaps I am imagining that last.

I rescued the rather shook-up pair, and showed them to Apricot (from across the kitchen) and told him I was putting them away.

Thimble realized halfway down the (real) hall where we were going. He didn't want to be put away. He wanted to stay out here with me. Colby decided the same thing. So I had squirmy kittens on the trip back to the pink room.

However, they are more resilient than Apricot and have each other, so Apricot gets the primary human companionship until we can all be together without hissing.

Before the second encounter.
Colby is on my shoes, Thimble is approaching.

And I was right; they just fell asleep together. I checked in on them after supper and that's where they were, all in a heap together.

Apricot, much to my astonishment, not only came down from his safe perch in the kitchen while I ate supper, but apparently went and got his own. He's been around ever since, keeping me in sight. I played with him with his feather toy which he was very glad to see (I wasn't sure if he'd want the distraction or not).

But instead of actually playing with it, he used it as an excuse to draw himself into the living room and go over every place Thimble and Colby went. It was funny, because with my misplaced memory*, I could remember the trails they left like I was seeing them walk it, and I could tell Apricot was tracing out their path. Not in order, more like working his way across the living room. He checked on every toy they'd checked out, and spent more time on the ones that they'd played with.

I finally decided he didn't want to play, and started putting the wand away. It collapses into itself, and makes a soft noise (snick, snick, snick) as each piece collapses. Apricot came running over to me, the look on his face enough to tell me that no, he didn't want me to put it away. That's when I figured out he must be using it as an excuse to make himself investigate everything "they" had touched.

I do that too, sometimes. I use a familiar routine as an excuse to force myself to do something scary. Like when we go to a new restaurant with my friends. I eat out at a restaurant every Saturday night with them. Given a choice, I wouldn't go somewhere new. New is scary. But I use the routine of "eating out with friends" to force myself to go to the new place. I wouldn't have to. I could stay home and eat by myself. But the routine makes it easier to branch out.

Finally he let me put the toy away. He did make a few conciliatory attacks to the feathers, as if to make me feel useful! And since then we have been in the living room, with him wandering around and coming over to me randomly to get head bumps and kisses.

I went into to check on the Rowdy Boys, who were almost asleep. But they didn't want me to leave and when they saw me going to the door, they both jumped down from the fish bed at the window (where they sleep, apparently, since I've caught them piled together on it three times now) and ran over to me, purring madly.

So I sat down and petted. I'd turned the lights off already so they had the advantage on me. I could hardly see more than furry shapes in the dark. But I can already tell Thimble from Colby, even with the bad lighting. It's behavior more than shape! And they were very cuddly and made me feel very guilty when I finally did leave and had to shut the door with them on the other side.

I do hope that we make rapid progress so everybody can be out together and at least a mild truce involved!

* I have prosopagnosia, otherwise known as face-blindness. The part of your brain dedicated to remembering and recalling the countless details that differentiate your father's face from, say, your uncle's face, in my head it doesn't work right. Instead of remembering faces, it remembers things and placement of things. So I know where everything is in the drawers of my kitchen and in my house, but I can't recognize my mother if I see her unexpectedly in a store.

Thimble and Colby Come Home Part II: The First Night

When I came home with the kittens yesterday, I put them in the pink room with toys and let them settle in.

The new litter box with the clear sides has proved to be a source of much entertainment as well as actual use. They both used the litter box within ten minutes of coming out of the carrier (which happened within ten seconds of my opening the carrier door). They have to climb in, because the edge is tall. I have a cardboard thick piece covered with a piece of carpet for the "stair". The stair keeps getting played with and turned over. I'm not sure if I should tape it to the mat under the litter box or just keep putting it back. They can (they have proved) jump in without it.

But I've watched Colby decide to leave by one of the walls, and run right into it because it's clear and he didn't see that it was there. Colby has a tendency to not-notice things. I do sympathize with him. I do that too.

He depends on Thimble a lot. Thimble was the one who asked me where the scratching post was. He stretched out on the desk leg, and looked back at me. "Is this where I'm supposed to do this?"

Yes, I know how to scratch, thank you,
I just didn't know where.

I said, no, come over here, this is where it is. The cat tree with the scratching post legs is in the corner to give the tree, which is tall, some stability. Thimble came over and I ran my fingers down the sisal post that I can most easily reach. Thimble gave me this, "uh, thanks, but duh, I know what to do" look and proceeded to stretch out and scratch.

It looked like he wanted the stretching more than the scratching, which makes sense given they were confined to a carrier longer than they've ever been before, and with two of them in there, there isn't a lot of room to stretch out.

So Colby had been using the litter box during this (Thimble was first, there, too, but Colby didn't have to ask him where it was, just wait for him to finish). Colby comes over and they have a little conference, nose to nose, that lasts just a second, and then Colby goes right over to the scratching post and stretches out to scratch.

Way of Cats blog said that one of the cool things about a multiple cat household is watching the cats interact, and watching the cat who understands humans better, translate for the cat(s) who don't. And I saw that happening, right in front of me. It really was cool!

Well, I went out and checked on Apricot, and he still seemed to be normal. This was before the kittens' scent had an opportunity to permeate the house.

My brother's fireplace turns
Max into Supercat!

I have a lot of trouble with anxiety and I figured it was better if I left the house, left everyone to settle in on their own without me wittering at them. So I headed out to my board gaming friends and had my supper and played Lords of Waterdeep, but the anxiety started to build about a third of the way into the game, and I decided I had to turn my part over to a late-comer and leave when I found myself jumping the gun and trying to cut another person's turn short just because I needed to go home so badly. Even though we only had one round to go.

Anxiety also causes me to have trouble driving, so I wanted to leave before it got so bad I would have that trouble. It's bad enough driving in the dark now. (Ten years ago I used to be able to see in the dark better than anyone in my age group, so the fact that I'm having trouble driving in the dark makes me wonder just how badly most people in my age group see the world!)

When I got home, the smell had well and truly gotten through the house and Apricot was a bit on edge. He came to greet me when I came in, because that's in the kitchen at the opposite end of the house. But he didn't want to follow me to my bedroom to "help" me get ready for bed, the way he normally does, although he actually did come in when I called him plaintively enough.

This cat bed is where they've been
sleeping, heaped together.

I checked in on the kittens and found them in a heap together, fast asleep. And the light going on woke them up and they started coming awake and playful, and that was a mistake too. The two bedrooms share a wall so when I wanted to go to sleep, the soft thud and rumble of them playing on the cat tree was a bit disturbing.

Although honestly the scent was worse. It's not a bad smell, I keep saying, it's just different. So I went to sleep and Apricot stayed out in his cat tree in the living room in his Observation Deck, the little square where he stayed when my sister was staying with me and he wouldn't come down until she left.

There was a brief two hour interlude in the morning on Sunday where I got up, cleaned litterboxes, gave food and water, checked on everybody, played with or petted everybody, as desired, went for my hour walk and went back to bed. This is what I do Sunday morning, when I've stayed up late gaming the night before. And when I wake up the second time, in the middle of the day, it always seems a little like a dream.

Apricot was still, when I woke up, stubbornly in the Observation Deck, although he came down to be with me in the kitchen for my lunch.

Thimble and Colby Come Home Part 1: The Journey

The day after Christmas, Friday night, I texted Ginger a wish that her family Christmas (already postponed once) was going better on the second try than the first.

She texted back that they were waiting for her husband, the vet, to get back from his job, and that he'd given Dagne an ultrasound today and she had five huge kittens and possibly was going to be delivering sooner than Ginger had anticipated. Also, I already knew about her second pregnant cat Teddy who is due Sunday.

And she wrapped up her text by saying, "is there any reason we're waiting until Monday for you to come get Thimble and Colby?"

Even for me, crippled as I am with interpreting social signals, that sounded astonishingly like "could you come earlier?"

I hate changing my plans. I really do. But on the other hand, there really wasn't a reason I was having to wait until Monday. I'd just gotten back from having my mp3 player connection fixed in the car, so I'd have music on the drive. All the kitten proofing (that I knew needed to be done) had been finished a week ago. Honestly the only reason I had waited until Monday was because I didn't know if she, the breeder, would be okay with letting them go two days after their 11th week birthday instead of closer to 12 weeks.

So I told her that, much abbreviated of course, and she basically said either Saturday or Sunday was good. Knowing Teddy was due on Sunday, I proposed Saturday.

That meant that on Saturday I did all my chores, ate my breakfast at my parents' house as usual, and then drove the two and a half hours to Ginger's house. Er, make that just a smidge over two hours ... apparently I was driving a little faster than usual.

Ginger spent the morning giving Thimble and Colby a bath and blowdrying them. They were so incredibly soft. And that's the softest they'll ever be; their coats change texture as they grow up (I remember Pippin used to be cloud fluffy too as a kitten) plus the bath made them even softer. It also made them smell different to themselves, so when I got there she had just finished, and they were both spending a bit of time washing to get things back to normal. Or close to it.

Thimble appeared to remember me. Colby was more occupied with the washing.

I'd asked for one more set of photos, not realizing the amount of work that went into them. The baths were extra; but just the photoshoot requires a lot of work. She has camera lights and sets up a board across between two cat cages with a backdrop she has to put up. The board is how she keeps the kittens in one place; they can't go forward or back due to the lack of somewhere to step, so all she has to do is keep them from going to one side or the other.

However, setting all this up takes time, and then the photos take time, and then editing the photos takes time.

Here is one of the new year's photos and a "behind the scenes" look at the photoshoot.

Behind the scenes: what a lot
of work it took to set all this up!

Happy New Years from Thimble and Colby

Then she had to draw up the contracts and register the kittens on the CFA website. (She wasn't really ready for me to come before Monday either. I wonder if the sudden decision to have me come on Saturday was as sudden for her as it was for me?) She's got a template for the contracts, of course, but all the extra stuff had to be filled in.

Finally we got everything done and signed and the check written. Toys were put in bags, as well as some books (including a tales from a Maine Coon breeder book that I (a) didn't have, and (b) had never seen before, so way cool there) and a comb and a seam ripper (marvelous for getting out fur mats) and a claw clippers even though I already have one, but that's okay because now I have a backup in case one breaks.

I loaded up Colby and Thimble into my front pack for the short trip out to the car from the house. I was parked in their garage. It was funny because I mostly did it just to see how they'd do in the front pack. It's not like as an adult I can put more than one into there, and besides, it's going to be Apricot's spot.

I put Colby in first and Thimble in on top of him. There's room for them to be side by side, but they didn't arrange it that way. Colby scrambled on top of Thimble and wanted to look out and see where we were going, so I actually hooked his harness into the single hook that the front pack has (I don't think its designers anticipated putting two kittens into it) so he couldn't get out. Thimble just curled up underneath Colby, all patient.

Too dark so it's blurry, plus
they kept moving!

They got dispensed into the CarGo in my back seat, and off I drove for the two and a half hour (if you follow the speed limit) trip home.

Within fifteen minutes I got meows from the back seat. Very plaintive, upset meows. I finally decided it was probably the CarGo itself, and that they really would have preferred a carrier. I texted (yes, while driving, although I used Siri to help) Ginger "why are they meowing at me" to confirm or deny my suspicions and she confirmed them. (Is there a way to get Siri to read texts to you?)

So before I got on I-85, I pulled over into a Tractor Supply parking lot and transferred them into the carrier that was in the trunk. I put the carrier inside the CarGo (since I didn't have room for it in the front seat) and we headed off again.

Not a peep out of the Rowdy Boys from that point on. In fact, once I heard purring. They purr, I have discovered, at the drop of a hat.

Yes, I'd brought a carrier too, just in case. Occasionally I show signs of thinking ahead!

My mom had asked me if I could stop in before I went home so she could pet the kittens. She knew it would be a while before I could have people over to my house. I asked Ginger if that would be okay, and she said it would, so I stopped by my parents' house before I went home. It's not a big hardship, as they live less than a mile away from my house!

Well, now we had a problem, because my original idea had me opening the CarGo door and mom reaching in and petting. But there was an issue with that idea in the first place (the actual car has to have its car door open for that to work, and visions of chasing kittens all over my parents' yard did not appeal). And now they were in the carrier as well. So when I called mom to let her know I was incoming, I told her to bring keys to their car.

So we got into the backseat of her car, and I had the carrier in my lap, and I opened the top so Mom could pet them. They purred at her and Thimble poked his head out the top, seemingly thinking we were home and it was time to go exploring. Mom was going to get out and let Daddy have her seat, but he climbed into the front seat of the car and twisted around to reach them from there. My eighty-year-old father is still pretty spry!

Mom's biggest comment was "they're so soft!" Yes, they are. The harnesses they wear make life so much easier because the harnesses are so much easier to grab than soft, friction-less kitten fur.

We got home, and I went inside without the kittens. I left them in the car with the car running, the environmentals on, and the door locked on my precious kittens. I greeted Apricot as usual, but he was fascinated with the smells on me. Not as fascinated as he was two weeks ago when I had visited the kittens on a Saturday, and not as alarmed as he was the first visit I'd made, so there's progress.

And then I brought the kittens in, walking through the house with the carrier. Apricot observed this process but didn't seem alarmed.

That came later, when the kittens' smell started permeating the house. Would you have noticed it? Probably not. I don't know why my sense of smell has kicked into overdrive in the past year, but I was bothered by Apricot before he took on more of the smell of the house and I got used to his unique scent, and I noticed the kittens' scent in the air this time. It's not a bad smell. It's not like they pooped and didn't quite separate the poop from the butt, like sometimes happens.

It's just their unique, individual scents. And it's not something either of us were used to. Apricot kept giving the door to the guest bedroom (otherwise known as the pink room) dirty looks. He wouldn't go down to the end of the hall unless he had to. Oddly, he kept using the litter box in my bedroom (the door to the bedroom is right next to the door to the pink room). But he didn't eat anything last night. He has an alternative litter box in the living room, but apparently he likes the one in the bedroom so much better that he braved the smell (which got stronger the closer you got to the pink bedroom's door) to get there.

(I'm writing this on Sunday afternoon.)

Apricot and the Clementines

Today is the day after Christmas. I was playing with my phone and Apricot was across the room in the tallest cat tree at the top. After a while I put the phone away and got my book out. Shortly after the book made an appearance, so did Apricot.

He was in the sun and got so toasted
he had to come down and stretch out.

He came over and asked politely if he could be up, and I cat-blinked at him to let him know he was welcome. He curled up in my lap, as at home as he could be, and fell asleep. He even snored for a little bit. Kitty snores are just adorable.

Then he woke up, but instead of leaving, he got up and turned around in a circle to wedge himself against the edge of the chair on my legs, and proceeded to take a cat bath. Wow! He’s never done that before; groomed himself while on my lap.

All told he didn’t stay long, perhaps twenty minutes? My sense of time changes when I’m in the middle of a book. But I’m getting used to his (by my standards) brief stays on my lap. It’s actually kind of nice. If he settles down and I happen to need to do something (like in the bathroom, say), I know that I can just wait a little while and he’ll leave. With Pippin, waiting until he left of his own accord was often hours later, and sometimes that wasn’t exactly, shall we say, possible?

However, there has been no mention of clementines yet, and the title to this post promised clementines.

Those started Christmas Eve. My parents gave me a half a dozen clementines to take home and eat. It will probably sound weird to you, but I’ve never had a clementine before. Furthermore, I’ve never actually had a citrus fruit at home from the “beginning.” IE, fruit that has its wrapper still on it.

I did not realize that when you peeled one, even a clementine which is easy to peel and can be done with your fingers, that you get citrus smell all over the hand doing the active peeling bit.
For about five minutes it was pleasant. My hand smelled like oranges. And then it turned nasty and I couldn’t stand the smell.

Apricot totally agreed with me and wanted me to very much make the smell on my hand go away. And barring that, don’t pet me with that hand!

I washed my hands multiple times, soap and water, and nothing. So I went hunting on the internet, and I’ll tell you, there’s not a lot of useful information out there. (Not for someone allergic to vinegar, anyway.) But I tried the baking soda scrub, and that at least reduced the smell to something I could tolerate.

Apricot was less willing to tolerate it and I ended up petting him with my left hand most of the evening, my right hand stored safely behind me.

Sigh. Sometimes I hate being super smell sensitive. It’s good because I can sympathize with Apricot and know why he gave me that horrified look, but it meant I had to take the rest of the clementines back to my mom, on Christmas Day, and apologetically explain why I couldn’t take them.

My dear sweet mother promptly peeled them for me and gave them back to me, without the peels. How old am I that my mom has to peel my clementines for me? I wasn’t going to protest, however—they are quite tasty and I do like them. Just not enough to subject to myself to that smell on my hands.

Apricot's Asleep

I was sitting on the settee in the living room today, and Apricot hopped up into the hammock which is right next to it. He ended up falling asleep in a totally unprotected, confident coil, with his feet and tummy in the air. He looked so cute I had to take a video!

The Afternoon Routine

When I come home from work, Apricot and I have a routine we go through. I enjoy it very much, but with the kittens arriving in 8 days, I won't have this much longer. So I thought I'd record it so I'll remember it.

So, I come in the door and do two things: hang up my keys and reset the alarm system. It depends how clumsy I am which one gets done first. Sometimes I drop the keys and then I don't have time to pick them up and attempt another shot at the hanger before the alarm system runs out of time. And at some point in there, I announce loudly to the house that "Apricot, I'm home."

After the alarm system has been reset, I go back to standing by the door in order to get my shoes off. In an effort to fit flexibility exercises into my day, I bend at the waist to untie my shoes. This means that when Apricot wanders into the kitchen, I see him "upside down."

I started calling him my upside down kitty because it amused my fancy. Well, now that phrase means that I want him to come over while I'm untying my shoes so I can pet him. If he's all sleepy and stretching and taking his good old time getting to me, I ask, "are you gonna be my upside-down kitty?" and he'll leave off the stretching and come bouncing over to me. (I really wonder what Thimble and Colby will make of this. I expect Apricot will eventually do it in front of them, as he gets used to their presence and slips back into our pattern.)

Then I pet him while still flipped over at the waist, and he sniffs my shoes and anything else I brought into the house. Before it got cold, we'd proceed directly to my favorite part, but now I have to put my slippers and thick socks on right after I remove the shoes or my feet get cold (and then they stay that way, even if I do put the slippers and socks on).

So he waits impatiently while I do that. Then I've also starting getting my hands a little bit wet at the sink in order to remove the static potential when I pet him. Neither of us appreciate getting shocked! (I liked summer better. I didn't have to do all this extra stuff. And my legs were bare so he could rub his furry side against my shins. That felt all nice and fuzzy!)

And now my favorite part. I sit down with my back against the pantry (so I can lean on it when I get tired) and sit in a fake splits position. I say fake because I can't do splits. I can only do squares. (IE, my legs make a 90 degree angle away from me.) Apricot comes right up close to me and I pet him.

For as long as he wants. Which if I've been gone all day, can be five to ten minutes, a long time for him. He prefers to recharge his love battery with multiple short interactions throughout the day, but when I've been gone all day, he's almost running on empty, and it takes a while to fill back up.

While I pet him I concentrate on the feel of his soft fur beneath my fingers, the way his chin feels when I rub it (he loves that), the color variations of red and orange in his tabby fur ... just letting the tension of the day drain away, absorbed by the intense concentration on everything that makes up Apricot. He often presses into me, trying to get as close as possible. I first started sitting that way because he was uncomfortable standing on my legs. Now I sit that way because he wants me to.

Eventually he wants to leave (he indicates this by getting up and making motions as if to walk away, but he's not serious yet about it because he knows what comes next), and then I get a hug. I pick him him and cuddle him against my chest, with my knees drawn up to make a cozy safe surround for him, and I kiss the top of his head and smell his fur. I love the smell of kitty fur especially around their necks. Apparently this may be a kitty to kitty thing, because Apricot has never thought it was strange that I do this, and there are many human things that he's had to get used to but let me know it was strange.

And then I put him down (usually so he has to climb across my leg to leave) and he strolls calmly away, often right around the corner into the living room where he lies against the wall and watches me from a safe distance as I put all the stuff away, whether it be just my work stuff or whether I brought home bags from stores. He's learned I don't always pay attention to where I walk.

After I finish putting stuff away we both go into the other end of the house to the bedroom. This is where things get strange.

You know how cats like a clean litterbox and often will wait until right after you clean it and then go in the newly clean litterbox? Apricot knows I clean the litter box at this point in the day (second time in the day; I clean it when I get up, too). But he'll make sure he goes in it right before I clean it.

I had to think about this for a while before I figured it out. The whole point to the clean litter box thing is so predators can't find them by the smell. Since Apricot has actually experienced living in the wild, he has a less instinctive and more real-life experience approach to the litter box use. He's noticed that when I clean it, I put the smelly part in a bucket with a lid that keeps it from smelling. (Now according to my nose, it doesn't really smell that much less in the bucket than it does in the litter box, but I do notice a slight difference, which means he notices a much bigger difference.)

So if he goes right before I put all the clumps into the bucket and put the lid back on the bucket, the litter box won't smell hardly at all (to him) of what could draw a predator to that spot. Smart kitty!

It's also very nice and convenient for me. Because it does smell less when it's all in the bucket, and that way the box is clean for longer. (Apricot's probably going to consider Colby and Thimble to be very reckless kitties when it comes to litter box behavior. Hopefully their youth will excuse them in his eyes. He might even teach them his own habits about using the box ... that would really be nice.)

Apricot's actually come and gotten me (by staring at me and then walking off a little, stare and walk, come on, follow the kitty) when his poop is extra smelly and wanted to me to clean it up. I'm glad to do it. Get it sealed away before the smell gets out of the bathroom. Luckily this doesn't happen often. His digestive system is usually quite efficient.

But also while we're in the bedroom, I'm changing into something more comfortable (and warmer, now that it's winter, because I won't be moving about as much as I do at work), and he's having his pre-supper snack.

Then we both go back into the living room and Apricot sees me settled in someplace (usually the settee) and he'll settle into a location of his own. Sometimes he hasn't quite gotten enough affection (perhaps he got distracted by the grocery bags), and he'll want me to come pet him some more before we settle into our afternoon stuff-to-do. So I pet him some more.

I've discovered that if you pet Apricot whenever he asks, and then also when he hasn't asked, that he regards me with even more affection and asks more often to be petted. I mostly let Pippin determine when he wanted to be petted, but as a result, I didn't get asked for pets very often. So I tried to be different with Apricot and pet him lots and lots, just brief interactions but a lot of them. And he's responded by becoming the most physically affectionate cat I've ever met.

Sometimes it takes me twice as long to walk through the house because I stop and pet him four or five times from one end of the house to the other. And sometimes he doesn't come with me, and I wonder what's going on, until he runs past me at full speed and skids to a stop in front of me. This is his version of ambush now. I always say "eek" in a quiet voice (because really being startled would scare him) and say in happy voice, "you ambushed me!"

He likes this game. And sometimes I am walking down the hall without him and I wonder out-loud, "Are you gonna ambush me?" and then I get an orange streak running past me and practically giggling with fun.

I do hope he stays fun and happy and affectionate, even with Colby and Thimble to compete with. And I hope I can manage to give all of them the affection they need. Hopefully they will have different patterns of how and when they want it, so I'm not overwhelmed by three at a time. I only have two hands!