Hi Brian and Pat,

With great trepidation (but also great trust in how well she had been doing), Katy was left with the rest of the cats (and one of our dogs) for over 3 weeks in home-care here thanks to a friend of ours she had never met, who agreed to come in and fed the critters daily or every other day as his schedule permitted. This friend, Bud, was warned :~) that if there was mayhem of any sort, he should take Katy home with him.

We returned and found all in good order, with Katy having had the run of the downstairs for the first time since she came here. Food and affection had indeed been delivered daily, Bud said, and there was not a thing wrong here except excessive cathair.

Katy, the one cat she had met thru gates, and the one she had never met, had all chosen separate hangouts (as cathair deposits testified). Katy herself had chosen my personal clean laundry basket left in the bathroom from which to rule their comings and goings.

All had maintained their weight. On cheap dry catfood, they all had great coats-- not a sign of allergy/irritation on Katy. (WalMart had been out of stock on the better food, when we made a last-minute trip to equip Bud.)

When we returned, and re-opened the upstairs Katy had known as an entirely separate apartment, she chose to go back up to her more usual haunts-- probably hoping for the return of single-cat rule and canned catfood. Oh yes, I HAD cans up there, left from Brian's generosity-- but was too tired from the return trip to comply with her hopes.

After Katy's afternoon's nap with no incursions from the other two cats, she was unceremoniously sent back down to patrol the living room for the night instead of yowling us awake all night. She found this rather insulting-- a gentle toe in her behinder-parts aided her movement thru the last door-- but cooperated, only to find dry food awaiting her downstairs.

I had thought I would restore her to "apartment" living; I hoped her view of the downstairs (and the stairway connecting these parts of the house) would seem like a bad dream. I assumed she would go back to being exclusively upstairs, till I could figure out how to get her into patrol in another separate part of the house that always attracts winter rodentia (sometimes in hordes). But she solved this herself, so I went with it!

So-- thus begins the winter pattern of her life here-- it IS cold at night already, so we know field mice will be visiting via the drafty doorcracks.

Her consumption of canned catfood will resume with the tiniest of tastes in her beloved "Katy Kom Kuick" bowls, tonight-- because I am not sure she will take that toe in the butt again without defending her dignity and he claws are SHARP.

But the more open quarters (with lots of space for all) have worked their magic. Consider her healed of stress-itching.

PS, the dog was left in a gated corner with an open door (24-7) to Dog World. Katy did not avail herself of the several inches below that gate... or the easy jump from a food bin to the top of the gate; she stayed in the house like the good (aging) girl she is.

Just in case, you may be assured, Bud had been briefed on how to get her out of Dog World if she had taken a powder out there. :~) He's a cat man. We think he may avail himself, next time, of the invitation to take one home for a few nights next time we go out of town. He's awful lonely since his wife Helen died and since his cat died, and at least one of those cats likes to travel.


Your news? :~)

~Susan