An Unexpected Development

On the theory that cats will associate good things with the place where they eat, today I fed Rhadwen breakfast outside the Kitten Room, with the door open, so she could see the interlopers-- I mean, her new brother and sister-- while she ate.

And not just ordinary dry kibble, either, but nice, moist, fishy tinned food contributed by my neighbor Eileen*, a cat person who can't have cats because her teenaged son is violently allergic.

So there Rhadwen is, one eye on the kittens, the other eye on her saucer, eating her meal. And out marches Huw, bold as brass, and starts eating out of her dish! And Wennie backed up and let him!

No, I do not have pictures of this. Camera wasn't handy. But that's exactly what that three-month-old upstart did!

In a case like this, I do not care what the books and websites say about letting the cats arrange these issues for themselves. The kittens are not eating out of my senior cat's bowl. Especially not when it's tinned food that's too rich for them. I do not wish to be cleaning up piles of kakk on the rug.

So I pulled Huw back and distracted both him and his sister with a bowl of their own kitten kibble. And the respective breakfasts were finished in peace.

But now Rhadwen is going to associate special food with its being stolen? Life is shaping up to be interesting here in the Valleys.

To give an idea how it went down, here's yesterday's dry run of the food-association exercise:

The sniffing you hear is Llewellyn, shut in the front bedroom.

Greedy paw by Gwenith. She's not as in-your-face brazen as her brother. She prefers the sneaky guerrilla approach.

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*Made up name

Sniffing Out Trouble

Earlier this morning, the kittens Gwenith and Huw went to the vet's. They got the rest of their shots. They were weighed (Huw has more than doubled his weight in the past 26 days; Gwenith, who was bigger the first vet visit, has added over 50% to hers). And hallelujah, they were both cleared as free of FIV.

So now the felines old and new can start sniffing out each other's territory. Literally.

The kids went into my room, in the carrier. Llewellyn, poor thing, I bundled into the bathroom, to keep him out of the way. And Rhadwen I induced to come upstairs to inspect the Kitten Room.

This is the result.

I hadn't intended to give the kittens reciprocal privileges this morning. The ideal thing is to let the newcomers range over the whole house while the reigning cat is otherwise occupied. And my house is not ready for that.

But what could it hurt if I let Gwenith and Huw nose around only in the front bedroom after Wennie took herself off downstairs? Not a whisker!

Today they're most interested in strange smells and promising hidey-holes. In a week or so, they'll be happily flinging phones and doilies and ornaments off dressers and nightstands and shelves, just like their adopted big sister Rhadwen.

(Oh, golly. I can hardly wait.)

Llewellyn Meets the Kitties