Catsitting, Day 2: The Reckoning

It was surprisingly quiet last night; after about five minutes of screaming her tiny head off, Nameless Girl decided to trash her cage and then pack it in for the evening.  It was her first night without her family, but she adjusted well, I’d say.

Not adjusting well at all is my oldest cat, Jasper.  When I brought home the Incubus a couple of years ago, Jasper reacted badly, too– growling and hissing and generally hating life.  But within a few days Inky was using him as a chew toy and all was right with the world.  This time, however, Jasper’s not only hissing at the little intruder, he’s turning on Inky again.  The poor Incubus just sat in the hall and howled, then ran after Jasper to try to make him remember who he was.  And got hissed at again, and cried again.  And then  I teared up.

On the whole, Inky seems to be taking the kittenage in stride.  He’s not really sure what to do when approached by a tiny bounding furball– RUN seems to be the most popular option –but he isn’t being mean.

We shall see how it goes this afternoon.

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