Kitten Break

The one on the right? Greyson. I’ve had him since he was a kitten and he’s been through as much with me as I’ve gone through in the last little while. He was brought to a big old house with another cat and a dog, lost the cat due to old age/ill health, lost the big old house and the dog in the break-up, and is now with me in my basement apartment.

And the little guy was lonely.

After four months in the new apartment, I decided to get another cat. The one on the left? That’s Babs, short for Barbara. (Yes, a Batman theme.) She is an absolute doll, a little bit too blond for her own good at times, but affectionate and open and playful.

Sometimes too playful. I didn’t want to wait too much longer to get another cat, because I worried Greyson would start being one of those cats who prefers his solitude to company — at least so far as felines go. He loves people company and was spending much of his waking moments howling to be let upstairs, driving everyone (especially me) nuts. But maybe l’m already too late.

The first week went well. Some play fighting, some grooming, and everyone was on the bed at night. After about five days, though, the play fighting started to get rough, get growly. Babs had found a way into some unfinished walls in a store room down here, where she’d taken to sleeping. That meant Greyson could ignore her, but I worried she would just end up hiding in there and coming out to eat. So I closed off the room and now it’s all big happy-fun-fighting in between napping and eating. Greyson really wants to groom her, which she puts up with for about five seconds unless really sleepy. She’d much prefer to be hanging off his neck.

So Greyson, while obviously more relaxed (he lounges now, the way he did in the old house), doesn’t seem to be entirely happy, either. He’s yowling differently, not as long and loud, more questing, but still yowling.

Babs is indifferent to his potential unhappiness. She’s the kind of cat (has probably HAD to be the kind of cat) that makes a space for herself wherever she may be and likes it just fine, thank you, and aren’t I just the prettiest thing anyways?

Now I don’t know what to do. Greyson is just about caterwauling for the upstairs again, which means that this whole thing was pointless. It may just be that he will never be happy down here, especially knowing that my folks are in the upstairs apartment, a fact he knows only too well because he’s been up there all the time before. At the same time, he was downstairs alone with this sad little face in my apartment for eight hours a day when I was at work.

What do I do? I can take Babs back to the shelter. I have about two weeks left to decide. But the shelter is over-flowing. These cats need homes. I wouldn’t try with another cat. That would be too much for Greyson. And is Babs even happy here? Is it a matter of choosing between lesser unhappinesses?

Still, I like the shot of the two of them in my office window. There’s potential here, right?



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