One of the most satisfying aspects of this blog is the experience that all of you bring to the mix. Whether that experience be specifically with cats, or whether it’s more in the nature of life-lessons in general, on a daily basis I’m grateful for how generously you share it with me.
Thanks to your help, here’s what seems true today.
You tell me cats frequently get out of whack with change and traveling. So there’s nothing unusual about Fangie’s sniffles, just as I was first led to believe – but then, when he got so much worse, I panicked. I now see that the panic was optional – another slant was just that Fangie got a little more out of whack than might be considered “normal.” Now the vet’s medicine is taking care of that, and complete recovery is set for two or three weeks hence.
Fangie’s quarantine room is small, too small for his big kitten energy – but one of you said you had to quarantine your cat in a tiny bathroom and things still worked out eventually. So I can either choose to worry and grieve about how deprived of space poor Fangie is – and he is deprived, no mistake about it – or I can feel grateful we’re lucky here. Even if Fangie’s room is small, it’s at least filled with beds and pillows and so forth, and it affords him at least some scope to play. I just need to make sure I play with him as much as I can, so he can settle down a bit and stop with the frantic love-bombing | biting.
Fangie is – naturally – desperate to get out. He’s giving that project all he’s got, and I have to fend him off bodily, and with great determination, every time I go in and out.
Bugsy is – naturally – eager to get in. And ditto.
The interesting about Bugsy is, it seems like I need to pay attention to include him in what I do with Fangie. I theorize that the two boys really are interested in each other – and not necessarily to start World War III as I first feared. Both boys have now met head-to-head and they seemed to like each other well enough. With a few speed-bumps here and there.
And now, maybe, they can’t understand why that fascinating process has been interrupted by the quarantine.
How Fangie’s handling it is, well, poor guy, he’s been used to the run of his former quarters, and his former playmates, and he is just raring to go, sick or not.
As for Bugsy, well, he seems genuinely perplexed, if I may be permitted a guess. I’m guessing Bugs wants the process to go forward and he can’t understand why he’s now excluded from Fangie’s presence.
So I’m doing everything I can think of to include both guys in what I do. There’s just enough space under Base Camp door for me to slide treats to whichever guy is on the other side of the door – so both guys get to share.
This ploy seems to be working. This morning I put Bugsy’s food down in its usual spot, on the past observation that he got so upset if he was too close to Fangie. But today Bugs wouldn’t lay a lip to it there. So I moved his food closer to Fangie’s door. Then I went in with Fangie’s food and stayed there, to make sure he swallowed his pill-pocket (he did, no problem, he noms at vacuum speed). Then I played the slide-the-treat-under-the-door game with both guys, I horsed around with Fangie until he settled down a little, and by the time I came out, Bugsy had finished his breakfast. Hooray.
Here’s Bugs, a tad discomposed. Note the extra-large flapping tail.
No pictures of me, in my more relaxed state. It’s a wonderful thing, perspective. I rely on you for that, dear readers – and you come through, on a daily basis. Wouldn’t you like to see a world that worked more companionably this way?
I know I would.