We have updates on three of our girls this week. First, Lady is doing well. I’m letting her out of the cage more and more, and she’s moving around reasonably well. She still limps, and, mostly, she wants in one of our laps. She has sharp claws, and she’s not afraid to implant them in our knees to let us know she wants to be in our laps. She purrs happily and loudly when she gets lap time. I think her foot will be misshapen, but that will bother me more than her.
Earlier this week, Sapphire disappeared. She won’t let us handle her, and she has an odd way about her, but not seeing that little face in the morning ready to escort me to the bathroom was saddening. We searched the house from top to bottom, checking places she had no way of getting into just to be sure, but we could not find her. There was really only one likely place for her to be. The door to Mr. L’s den had been open the day she disappeared. I chased Daphne out, looked for other cats, and seeing none, I closed the door. Mr. L searched the room twice, and I searched it two times as well. Later in the evening of the second day, I stepped into the den and closed the door behind me. I sat quietly in Mr. L’s desk chair. Sure enough, about five minutes later a little gray imp appeared and ran back to her hiding place when I moved. I opened the door to the den and waited some more. After two tries, Sapphire left the room, and I chased the other cats out and closed the door behind us.
The interesting thing with Sapphire is, despite her not wanting us to handle her, she’s nearby much of the time, especially when we go upstairs to bed at night — she escorts each of us up the stairs, staying just out of reach. In the morning, she is usually waiting by my door to escort me to the bathroom. Lately, she’s begun letting me pet her once or twice each morning. Despite the limited contact, she’s a beautiful, impish cat, and I’d be sadder than you might think if she weren’t around to tease me. (The featured image above is her kitten photo, but her eyes and expression remain the same.)
Finally, we come to Zelda, who willingly walked into a trap a year ago so I could get her tested, spayed, and vaccinated. It’s exam and vaccination time again. The picture tells you everything Zelda wants you and I to know about what she thinks of this idea. Zelda will come within three feet of us, but she stays out of touching range. When I set this trap up yesterday, she carefully sniffed the entrance but would not cross the plane. She also glared at me, leaving no doubt what she thought about my attempt at subterfuge.