Friday, September 12, 2014

Empathy

We have two new fur babies. Joey has been so excited about getting his very own cat, especially in the throes of still missing Luna. We finally brought them home.

This is Joey's kitty, Lily. She looks suspiciously like Luna.


This is Andy's kitty, Marshmallow. She is totally not shy. At. All. And she approves of the changes in her fortunes. 
At long last, we found our kitties, and Joey was looking forward to seeing her home safe when he came home from school. Andy and I picked them up from the shelter, and took them directly to our vet (do not pass Go, do not collect $200), and had our vet look them over top to tail. Lily was very good, letting her nails be clipped and the vet handle her. She got a clean bill, though she had some tartar on her teeth that we removed. Marshmallow had evidence of an earmite problem, but no mites. Her ears had not been properly cleaned from it, however, so she has a little yeast in the ear folds, very uncomfy. Our vet cleaned them really well, and treated them so the yeast will go away. Neither had any sign of fleas. Then we gave them both a monthly Bug Treatment (fleas, heartworm, mites, etc all covered by the treatment), just in case and just because its a good idea, and home we went to introduce them to Ellora.

Marshmallow has proven a bold beauty, looking over the house and already interacting with her new people. The only thing she's not totally approved of is the food, because hey, she's a cat. Fancy Feast just ain't fancy enough for her (or familiar enough for her). She jumps up and says hello, and has been very interested in Ellora.

Ellora wants Nothing To Do With Her. She comes over and stares at me, with the look of, "Mom, what did you do? There are whipper-snappers in my HOUSE!" I believe she is plotting my demise.

So Joey came home to Marshmallow out and about. But where was his Lily?

We found her. She has found a little space under a kitchen cabinet, and has tucked herself in there. The shelter said it took her a couple of days to calm down there. We expect the same here, if not a little longer. Everything new, her world torn up again. She was a turn-in; a family deliberately gave her up. The papers said she "didn't get along with the other cats." It also said she was in a house with five other cats and three dogs. The shelter had no problems with her and other cats, but noticed she hates loud and sudden noises- so we suspect she was terrified of the dogs. No wonder she's anxious. This is her third home, and she is smart to be wary. She's overwhelmed by the changes.

Joey was bitterly disappointed. He wanted to be able to pet his cat, and feed her, and show how well he could take care of her. He began to perseverate, to spiral into the abyss of disappointment and grief. All afternoon, he was so sad. At first we couldn't find her at all, then we found her tucked under the cabinet. I got her to nibble some food for me, but otherwise, she was not ready to come out to say hello. Joey was devastated. He sat downstairs, trying to coax her out. He managed to get her out for a few minutes by tempting her with treats, but then she ran back to her hole. He was beside himself, thinking he was doing something wrong. We kept assuring him that she would come out, he just needed to give her time. We tried to get him to think about how he felt when he was upset and scared, and get him to understand the cat was feeling this way. He wasn't buying it.

We finally got him calmed down enough to get him settled into his room for bed. I came out a little later to check on him. He was in his bed, reading his dictionary, surrounded by his stuffed Mario and Frozen characters.

"Are you OK?" I asked, and he returned the standard "um-hm" of "I know you want an answer but I don't want to deal with you."
"Do you want me to sit with you a while?" I offered, as this is sometimes something he likes when upset.
"No, I need my alone time."
"Oh," I nodded, giving him a smile. "Well, I just want you to know what a good job you are doing, taking care of Lily. Sometimes, taking care of her means leaving her alone for a little while."
"Like me telling you I want my alone time?" he brightened.
"Exactly."

By George, I think he's got it.