It’s been a week since I met Mr. Oates at the Humane Society shelter in Arnprior, and he’s had an eventful time. He’s experienced a couple of stressful car rides in a carrier, a visit to the vet, two new people to get used to, and a whole house to explore and feel safe in.
He’s doing pretty well, all things considered. No more slinking around with his tail between his legs, that is for sure. He’s eating well, and using the litterbox perfectly.
Although 33 years of cat experience has meant we have few surprises in store for us, every cat is different and Mr. Oates is no exception.
- He has boundless energy – especially early in the morning. He loves cat wand toys. After looking after an old sick tired 16 year old, this has come as quite a pleasant revelation to me. Not so much for Maria when he goes after her toes under the sheets at 6 AM.
- He’s far more talkative than Sammy – who was mostly silent for many years – only his thyroid issues made Sam more vocal, and then only at mealtime. In this respect Oates is more like our Siamese Brio, although no normal domestic cat could out talk a Siamese.
- He’s a bed guy for sure, again more like Brio. Our old Siamese buddy wanted to push you off the pillow, and ended up being banished to the rec room at night. Oates is more circumspect and sleeps at the foot of the bed. This morning I woke up with a furry hot pack right behind the curve of my knees.
- We had two plus years of Sammy’s thyroid problem which we kept under control to some extent. This meant that Sam was always a restless sleeper and short napper. Mr. Oates takes those long luxurious naps of a contented cat. He curls up and looks totally secure. This is a good thing if you’re a cat.
- I’ve been playing with him and giving him a treat or two afterward. This looks like it’ll become a tradition. It only takes a couple of days and a cat precedent will be set.
He’ll be keeping me company tomorrow as Maria is off to help my daughter with the grandkids. That is one of the main reasons I wanted to have him here. It was a lonely place without a furry pal, even for a month. Now all is right with Oates’s world…and mine.