It’s always wonderful when Paladin shows up for lunch, and today he came three times. He has been coming consistently for breakfast, and sometimes for a late-evening dinner.
Tomorrow he will spend the day in his “condo” my husband built for him. We have to remove his food at 9:00 P.M. and leave him with only water. This protocol is necessary because the following day he has an appointment. He is scheduled for surgery. He will be neutered. He will also be vaccinated for everything cats are vaccinated for, fully examined, treated for worms if they are present, and he will receive a microchip.
The condo is because, Paladin being a feral roamer, we can’t count on him showing up on time and properly fasted for his scheduled procedures, so we will secure him on his first stop, which is usually morning. We will bring him to the veterinary clinic Thursday morning and pick him up in the late afternoon. He will recover in our house for three days. He has never chosen to enter our house before. It’s a feral thing; Effie wouldn’t understand.
A few evenings ago, I opened the door for him to see whether he would come inside. He seemed ready and stepped in. But when I started to close the door behind him, the deal was off. He totally freaked, jumping four feet high on the inside of the door, terrified. I held the door as wide as possible and he jumped off and bolted. I was a basket case.
The following morning he showed up for breakfast, his usual cautiously cheerful self.
I now believe that anyone who thinks they understand cats is self-deceived. I know I did, and I was.