Relative Something

With the horses and our dog, Delilah, getting the majority of attention since they all arrived, we have admittedly neglected the cats to varying degrees. Of course, one of the reasons they haven’t been getting the same amount of attention is that they so rarely demand it.

Can I just mention here what a nuisance Delilah can be with her penchant for scouring the firewood pile next to the fireplace to claw out reasonable sized scraps of bark which she then carries to any and all floor spaces accessible to her, to crunch into shreds, leaving wood shrapnel strewn everywhere? Yes, I can, and I just did.

You’d think she wasn’t getting enough fiber in her diet, but after all the horse manure, frozen dead moles, paper trash, and stuffed toys she mouths and often times shreds, I am pretty sure her chewing addictions aren’t vitamin or mineral deficiency related.

As we have slowly advanced the steps toward normalizing relations between the dog and cats in our house, Delilah has gained space to roam freely. We prohibit access to our bedroom and the basement for now, allowing the cats a few zones of protection from canine harassment. For the most part, the cats remain free to move about as they please. Their usual choice is to stay holed up in our bedroom, which has always been their perceived safe zone.

From the start, little Pequenita has been the bravest about testing boundaries with Delilah. Poor Mozyr has always behaved like a literal little scaredy-cat. He will often disappear from sight, hiding as far under our bed as he can get.

Saturday night we spotted that the rarely used (and only recently rediscovered) cat beds that Cyndie had placed on the floor in our bedroom when company arrived, had been peed on. In no mood to deal with it, I tossed them outside to freeze. Then I spotted Mozyr on the top level of their cat tree, perched in a position that looked like he was trying to pee. Poor guy was having a problem.

It being the weekend of historic cold temperatures, a visit to the vet was the last thing we wanted, but if he was having urinary trouble, and if we had been missing signals up to this point, it seemed important to have him seen. In the morning, Cyndie searched for an emergency vet that would be open and Mozyr VERY reluctantly made it into a carrier for the trip.

The veterinarian said cats will tend to stop using the litter box if they associate it with pain or difficulty they have with peeing. I had another thought… when we are home alone, we usually use our bathroom without closing the door, and Mozyr almost always makes a trip in to seek attention and get a drink from a water bowl on the floor in there. For the two weeks we had guests, the bathroom door was always shut when in use, and the timid little scaredy-cat was probably lost as to what to do.

It could be that he was not drinking as much water, or was just too scared or uncomfortable to go down and use the litter box. The vet re-hydrated him with IV fluids and we are enticing him to drink more with some tuna water. He seems a bit more like his old self already.

Yesterday, Pequenita moved us ever closer to ultimate dog/cat normalization with a relentless series of forays into unprotected territory, walking right underneath Delilah a couple of times, while ‘Lilah fought the urge to over-react. Our beautiful canine did everything she could to be good, but lost it a few times, chasing ‘Nita back to the gate. We think they both did a heroic job of getting better used to being in proximity with each other.

Mozyr did his best to not run under the bed every time he heard ‘Lilah’s tags jingle, but he hardly set foot out of the bedroom.

Slow progress, but progress in the right direction. Our hopes for an ultimately happy ending are renewed. I think Pequenita will deserve the majority of credit. If Mozyr overcomes his fears, that will deserve a worthy celebration.

.

.

.

.

.

I had a very fine day yesterday with Delilah that started a little surprisingly. Cyndie had gotten up early to let Delilah out, and then was occupied with some activity, while I remained in bed trying to fall back to sleep. I was jolted alert by a commotion in the dark at the foot of the bed. Usually it is the sound of the cats doing battle, but that rarely lasts very long, and this sound wasn’t stopping.

My intuition sensed Delilah was in the room, but the familiar clanking sound of the tags on her collar was missing. Then it occurred to me that the reason she would be able to appear in our bedroom in the first place would be, if she got loose from her leash, which would be logical if she had slipped out of her collar altogether. I jumped out of bed in the dark, wearing my usual sleepwear –which doesn’t happen to involve pajamas– and blindly stepped into the middle of the hissing fracas, feeling a bit ill at ease.

By this time, Cyndie was aware something was amiss and had come running. She toggled the light switch and revealed the standoff between the girls. Pequenita will stand her ground, but Mozyr zooms under the bed at the slightest threat. Calm was restored, but my thoughts of falling back to sleep were dashed.

After breakfast, I took Delilah outside to see if I could chuck a ball someplace where she would have to hunt to find it. It is thrilling to watch her dial in the location, as she passes back and forth across the path the ball took. One of my tosses ended up deflecting off a tree, changing trajectory from what Delilah was anticipating. I thought I saw where it landed and waited for her to narrow it down to that spot. I could tell it was a hard one, because she was obviously having difficulty homing in on it.

She would pop out of the woods, and then circle back in to hunt some more. One time, when she came out and headed all the way back toward me, I figured she was giving up. Then I spotted the ball in her mouth. I didn’t believe it, because she hadn’t made it back to the spot I had been watching. I thought she must have found some other ball from an earlier time. I hiked in and checked out the spot I had been eyeing. Nothing there!

Her nose is definitely better than my eyesight.

The morning altercation with Pequenita must have stirred something in the cat, as she came out three different times throughout the day to approach Delilah and make contact. It is not entirely unprecedented that she do that, but it doesn’t happen every day. Three times in one day is of noteworthy significance. When Delilah remains calm in the presence of the cat(s), she gets a treat.

On the third occasion, when Cyndie had arrived home, they were almost nose to nose, gobbling up the treats she was putting down. It was very rewarding to see Delilah maintain her composure for all three of the visits from Pequenita.

Progress has been very slow in coming, but it appears our patience is finally being rewarded. I don’t know about the cats, but I am truly looking forward to the day when we don’t have to confine Delilah to a leash when she comes inside the house.