He is truly a Prince of Cats.
And I say this despite the fact that he wanted me to get up and let him roam around at three in the morning.
Before last night, I had been thinking that maybe Mother would come to visit Cat in the guest room, where he could feel safe and secure.
This morning when I moved to the door, he followed me. It was a lot noisier than last night, and he started to have second thoughts a few yards along the corridor, but he didn’t protest when I picked him up and carried him down to Mother’s flat. She was delighted to see him.
He was round eyed and scared; ignoring us, looking for dark corners to hide in. Maybe it was because Mother kept calling him a dog. I put a note on the door so that the carers would know he was there.
I told Mother that if we were calm and quiet he would settle.
She sat on the sofa and followed him with her eyes.
I broke the calm when he leapt onto the kitchen counter. It’s designed to accommodate people in wheelchairs so lower than most, but it’s years since he’s jumped on the counter at home. My “No!” was probably heard across the county. It worked anyway.
Sure enough he soon started to make himself at home. I’m sure he recognised Mother’s smell. He stayed at her old house a lot. When he jumped up and sat beside her on the sofa, she beamed.
The first carer came in and Cat, who was by this time asleep behind the sofa, enjoying the underfloor heating, snoozed on.
I swear as the day went on he started to enjoy the attention and admiration. Carers came in, he narrowed his eyes as they paid him compliments, allowed himself to be stroked and petted.
I even left him with Mother for a couple of hours while I raced off to see Aunt and get some shopping. When I got back, he was asleep on the largest chair and Mother was having forty winks in bed. Unusually, there was no evidence that she had moved anything about while she’d been on her own.
While we had supper, he went outside. I deliberately did not follow him, but kept a close eye. He seems to be bolder if I am chaperoning him, and I wanted him to stay close. After a few short explorations, he was sufficiently relaxed in his surroundings to dig a toilet. Hurrah! Less litter tray emptying for me.
We had another perambulation when it was time to relocate to the guest room, and he had his first ride in a lift. He took it in his stride. A member of staff who had just come on duty stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him sitting in the corridor. Another carer laughed, and told her he was a visitor not a trespasser. Cat promptly stood up, his tail up straight and confident and walked over to them.
He truly amazes me. I don’t know how many cats would be as adaptable as he is, to take on two houses and a boat as additional territories. The cattery owners described him as pretty well-balanced a while ago.
I think they are on the right lines, but he’s more than well-balanced.
I’d say he is a little furry hero.