A year ago in April, I adopted the eighth cat I have lived with and named her, obviously, Octavia. It turned out Octavia and I have a lot in common; we are both cranky old ladies with bad arthritis and a passion for snacks. When I first brought her home, she approached her new living situation with admirable caution. She made a beeline for under the bed in the guest room and stayed there. I was willing to not force the issue and let her come to me in her own good time. She ate and used her box (the benchmarks I use for if a cat is okay) when I was out or sufficiently unconscious. After a couple of weeks I decided maybe we should be more friendly and that's when I discovered her fondness for snack products. I lured her out from under the bed by rattling a bag of cat treats. That got her attention.
Once she associated me with snacks, she decided we were going to be best friends and after I got her some steps to make getting into bed easier on her stiff joints, she joined me up here regularly. It was very sweet.
Then a year ago, the much missed Super Agent Fred died and I inherited his cat, Toby, aka The World's Most Sweetest Cat. I quarantined him in my bathroom to let him get used to this brave new world, a setup he immediately protested against because he wanted to hang out with me. So sweet. Octavia also protested against the setup, but only because she opposed another cat in her space. Her exact words were, "Nope, I'm out," and she retreated back to her fortress of solitude under the bed.
It was a situation that left me very unhappy. I had adopted Octavia specifically because I was looking for a senior cat so that I could provide a more comfortable space than a cage and a kennel for her to live out her last whatevers. Just as a side note, Octavia has scuttled that high-minded plan, once she became ensconced and living on a diet of fancy wet food, she has thrived. She has made it very clear she plans on outliving me. But still, I was very conscious that just as she had really settled in comfortably, Toby appeared and really upset her.
It took months for her to start to tentatively interact with this interloper. Toby's approach to the world is Let's Be Buddies and everyone is immediately his best friend. He simply could not understand why Octavia was so chilly and hostile. But eventually she warmed to his charms and now she lets him very enthusiastically groom the back of her head. He also likes to groom the back of my head, for that matter.
As you see in the picture above, they have both now decided my bed is our bed. Toby regularly snuggles up next to my side with his head on my shoulder which has to be the most adorable thing since cats were invented. Octavia also likes to settle in next to me. If she gets here first, Toby will climb over one or both of us to jam himself in between her and my armpit so that I find myself at the bottom of a pile of cats as I just try to watch the news on PornHub. Also, both of them will only settle down on my left side so that I am between them and the door. Obviously, they are privy to inside information about the zombie apocalypse and they have decided that when the undead inevitably burst in, me and my luscious brains will provide a distraction for the cats to make their getaway. Ingrates.
Speaking of pussy:
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