We are heading for a possible crisis.
Cookie cat. Christmas.
On Friday night she slept in my flat. On my bed. MasterB relegated to the sitting room. I really don’t want a repeat of this. She is lovely; a sweetheart of a cat, but this is MasterB’s home and I don’t want him to become Cat Number Two. On the other hand, I don’t want her freezing her fur off outside in the December nights.
She came in tonight. MasterB was out. There is a new cat on the block; a pretty black cat with a white bib. Cookie and MasterB in temporary alliance against it. Which is how Cookie ended up in here on Friday night.
Her visit informed me that she loves catnip. Tonight I handed her, with the catnip teabag she had lovingly and thoroughly licked, over to the neighbours who are taking most responsibility for her, but who are crucially away for Christmas.
She likes MasterB’s playcube too. Actually, her visits and her reactions make me aware of how this flat has gradually become extremely cat friendly. She must think she is in a cat playground.
MasterB sniffed a lot when he came in, but didn’t seem too worried. That surprised me.
On Saturday morning he definitely let her know he would like her to go; growling and hissing at her after a comparatively quiet night.
In theory, she still has a home. but even with the cold, she is not going there. It’s tricky. Do we actively take steps to rehome her, or just muddle on, trying to keep her healthy, safe and warm.
Answers on a postcard please.