fostering: Celia
Nov. 14th, 2004 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eubToday I picked up a foster cat. Her name is Celia; I guess the shelter gave hre that, since she came in as a stray. That was during the Republican National Convention, and the people at the shelter suggested she would love to spend some time someplace larger and more peaceful.
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jinian came to help and advise, first on my cat-supplies shopping trip (also she floated me a loan when I found I'd lost my ATM card), and then to the shelter. They suggested Celia as a good cat for a n00b, and we found her cage after a little running back and forth to confirm, since her name-and-info card was not to be found. We carried the poor girl through the corridor of yelping dogs to the front desk, and they found that she hadn't yet been microchipped, tested for FeLV, or examined for a spaying scar -- so I should come back at 4:30 when they could do these, and until then back through the corridor of yelping she went. We went to my apartment and made ready the cat supplies, until jinian had to go elsewhere.
I went back for Celia. She has indeed been spayed, is now chipped, and has had blood drawn. She zoomed right out of the carrier (and desired to get out of the cat holding rooms, too, to explore for dark places). She quickly dicovered the cat-passage behind the books on the bookshelves. I removed the scratching pad because 1) she clearly likes catnip and I'm not sure she needs to be a crazy drugged kitty just yet, and 2) it induced a frenzy of scratching at the carpet next to the scratching pad. Hm.
She is calling out. I'll go check if she's eager for company, but possibly she's just going to be waily for a bit.
It seems her top priority was to assure me that she was a cat of fine scent-glands. I sat in the bedroom so she could scent-mark me, go explore what could be gotten behind, scent-mark me, go explore what could be gotten on top of, scent-mark me, squall creakily until I raised the blind so she could get onto the window-sill and look out.
I hung the scratching strip on the doorknob, which must remove from her cattish brain the idea of scratching the carpet next to it. The catnip-scent made it a scratching strip of pure love, but happily there's not enough there to actually get a buzz from; she has been seen to scratch it, after a little demo from me. She ate a bit of food (after I laid a bonito shaving on top), and sniffed the water. Has not figured out about the litterbox yet, I don't think.
Child locks for cupboards, that's what I forgot. She likes cupboards a great deal.
I checked in and found her on top of the bedroom bookshelves, running back and forth contemplating whether she could get down. She could -- jumped onto the pillow.
She dislikes it when I'm taller than her, and would much rather I sit. I stood near the dresser, and she darted onto that and sprung to my shoulder, seeking to pace back and forth across my neck. She was surprisingly good about claws in all this, but I think I have to discourage this behavior as I can't imagine it appeals to all potential adopters. What would happen to a small person who cannot move their shoulders out of the jumpable airspace I don't care to consider.
She prefers to fish her food out of the bowl and eat it off the floor. She may end up with a tray.
She's not convinced she's not a rattlesnake -- will judder her tail when suspicious of a noise.
My reading a book prompted her to lie down for the first time, flop on the book. No doubt she's done this before.
She has figured out the water bowl and the litterbox. So far, so good. She likes people a lot, and must have had a rotten time in her cage for two months.
jinian came to help and advise, first on my cat-supplies shopping trip (also she floated me a loan when I found I'd lost my ATM card), and then to the shelter. They suggested Celia as a good cat for a n00b, and we found her cage after a little running back and forth to confirm, since her name-and-info card was not to be found. We carried the poor girl through the corridor of yelping dogs to the front desk, and they found that she hadn't yet been microchipped, tested for FeLV, or examined for a spaying scar -- so I should come back at 4:30 when they could do these, and until then back through the corridor of yelping she went. We went to my apartment and made ready the cat supplies, until jinian had to go elsewhere.I went back for Celia. She has indeed been spayed, is now chipped, and has had blood drawn. She zoomed right out of the carrier (and desired to get out of the cat holding rooms, too, to explore for dark places). She quickly dicovered the cat-passage behind the books on the bookshelves. I removed the scratching pad because 1) she clearly likes catnip and I'm not sure she needs to be a crazy drugged kitty just yet, and 2) it induced a frenzy of scratching at the carpet next to the scratching pad. Hm.
She is calling out. I'll go check if she's eager for company, but possibly she's just going to be waily for a bit.
It seems her top priority was to assure me that she was a cat of fine scent-glands. I sat in the bedroom so she could scent-mark me, go explore what could be gotten behind, scent-mark me, go explore what could be gotten on top of, scent-mark me, squall creakily until I raised the blind so she could get onto the window-sill and look out.
I hung the scratching strip on the doorknob, which must remove from her cattish brain the idea of scratching the carpet next to it. The catnip-scent made it a scratching strip of pure love, but happily there's not enough there to actually get a buzz from; she has been seen to scratch it, after a little demo from me. She ate a bit of food (after I laid a bonito shaving on top), and sniffed the water. Has not figured out about the litterbox yet, I don't think.
Child locks for cupboards, that's what I forgot. She likes cupboards a great deal.
I checked in and found her on top of the bedroom bookshelves, running back and forth contemplating whether she could get down. She could -- jumped onto the pillow.
She dislikes it when I'm taller than her, and would much rather I sit. I stood near the dresser, and she darted onto that and sprung to my shoulder, seeking to pace back and forth across my neck. She was surprisingly good about claws in all this, but I think I have to discourage this behavior as I can't imagine it appeals to all potential adopters. What would happen to a small person who cannot move their shoulders out of the jumpable airspace I don't care to consider.
She prefers to fish her food out of the bowl and eat it off the floor. She may end up with a tray.
She's not convinced she's not a rattlesnake -- will judder her tail when suspicious of a noise.
My reading a book prompted her to lie down for the first time, flop on the book. No doubt she's done this before.
She has figured out the water bowl and the litterbox. So far, so good. She likes people a lot, and must have had a rotten time in her cage for two months.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-15 07:18 pm (UTC)She's not a kitten. I'd guess full-grown young adult, but I don't know how to estimate her age accurately.