Living Together

In the end, it took about six weeks...from kittens hidden away like fairy tale characters in their bathroom safe room, to full-fledged family members roaming amidst the friendly monsters/inhabitants who inhabit the world inside our home.

In my last post, the kittens were spending time inside a pen I set up in our family room. And when the dogs were outside chasing squirrels in the back yard, I would let Elsa Clair and Calvin run around the house; this helped them become familiar with lots of kitty Hidey Places and escape routes.

By this time, our two babies were such escape artists that there were daily close encounters with the dogs and cats as one or the other of the little fur balls flew over the gate when I opened the bathroom door. The dogs were mostly compuzzled; the cats were a little annoyed. But there was no meanness or chasing from the elder critters, and no fear from the kittens. It was time to let everyone mingle.

Armed with a squirt bottle in one hand and some treats in my pocket to control dogs and cats, I allowed the kittens the run of the house--well, almost the run.  Many of the bedroom doors were closed to restrict their access.  Since the kittens knew their way around the rest of the rooms, it made it easy to follow them as they explored and played and kittied here and there.

Dawn and Athena didn't really Like the kittens. Of course, they are Cats, and if it wasn't the Cat's Idea to get the kittens (and it was most certainly Not), then they don't like it. They registered their displeasure with hisses and glares, but eventually got used to the extra felines in the house. I fed them together, gave them all treats at the same time, and made sure to pet and give Scratchies to the elder cats whenever the kittens were around.  This may have helped a bit.

And while Their Highnesses would probably not willingly admit it, I think they're starting to like the little black and white Nuisances. I've seen Athena come bolting through the kitchen with Calvin hot on her tail. And when nobody is looking, late at night, Dawn and Elsa Clair sleep next to each other on a furry cloth at the top of the stairs.

Dawn and Elsa Clair sharing a bed. Jasper looks a tad Worried. But that's Jasper's normal state.

Feeding time is happy time. Usually, everyone is in the same positions. Athena and Dawn on either end, and the kittens in the center.

Athena grooms Dawn, while Elsa Clair takes notes.

Athena grabs a Secret Sniff of Elsa Clair.

 

The Queen is in residence. A lowly kitten is Not Welcome.

Athena jumped onto her bed only to discover it was occupied by Elsa Clair. Neither was giving up an inch. The Queen was Not Pleased. 

Calvin and Athena play Cat Inside the Box. In this case, the CIB was Dawn.

A variation of CIB is Cat Inside the Drum. The kittens are fascinated. I think Dawn was having fun.

Athena teaches Elsa Clair and Calvin the finer points of Helping put the groceries away.

 

During Hurricane Sandy, we took refuge in the basement, where Athena served as referee during a competitive game of foosball between the kittens.

Dawn demonstrates the Full Meatloaf position to Calvin.

As for the dogs, the squirt bottle turned out to be mostly unnecessary. I think I only had to use it twice ...mostly a warning shot across someone's bow to make sure they weren't too aggressively nosey with the kittens. Because now that they had access, Jasper, Lilah and Tucker just wanted to Smell them. And by Smell them, I mean stick your nose as far into kitty fur as you can get and Inhale.  Deeply. It's a wonder they didn't sniff the kittens right up their nostrils. The dogs could have broke their Sniffers with the amount of of snorting they attempted.

Two dog noses trying to Sniff Elsa Clair. Jasper's head is about the same size as Elsa's entire body, but she doesn't seem to mind.

Elsa Clair and Jasper nose to nose.

Tucker is trying to figure out what could be so interesting about paper in a Box. Calvin is happy to show him.

 

Jasper discovers a potential stowaway in Aaron's luggage. He promises Calvin he won't tell.

Once they got their fill of Sniffs, then it was on to Licks. Actually, that was mostly Lilah. The kittens needed to be Cleaned. Really. She spent the good part of several days hanging around, trying to lick Someone. Didn't matter whether it was Elsa Clair or Calvin. She just want one Lick. Or maybe two. Her Dr. Lilah instincts were so strong, she just had to Lick a Kitten. For the most part, they would walk away from Lilah, or offer a tiny Leave Me Alone hiss.  Until one day, she caught Elsa Clair in Sleepy Kitty Mode. That day surely ranks as one of the Top Five for Lilah.

Lilah gets a Good Sniff of a sleepy Elsa Clair.

Elsa is so comfortable with the dogs around that she just dozes off. And Lilah--Happy Happy Lilah--was able to just lay there and Sniff to her heart's content.

Eventually, Calvin joined his sister in the cat bed. And patient, patient Lilah got to Lick Calvin's ears. It was a banner day.

Today, four months after Elsa Clair and Calvin came to live with us, peace reigns in our home. Everyone gets along, for the most part, though sometimes there are differences of opinion as in any typical home. But usually those are quickly solved, with few issues. I think the only thing that has ever gotten hurt was Tucker's feelings after his Ball antics had irritated Athena one time too many and she swatted him just for walking by her.

Everyone tries to respect each other now. With an emphasis on "tries." We're all fallible here--humans, dogs and cats. Nobody's perfect (though I would guess the Dawn and Athena might argue with that.)

Tucker is Worried. Is that where kittens come from? He thought they were dust bunnies. Maybe they're Dust Kittens? We'd better keep the floors swept.

The dogs may all run to look out the window, but the commotion is not enough to make Elsa Clair and Calvin leave their comfortable bed.

Favorite Kitten Game: chase the dogs' leashes as we get ready to Go Outside. Lilah and Calvin are having some fun with Chase the Leash here.

Typical daytime scene: Tucker, Calvin, Athena and Jasper share the couch.

Typical nighttime scene: Jasper, Calvin and Lilah share the couch.

"I got something on my foot." Calvin curled up on Jasper's foot and fell asleep. Jasper spent about 5 minutes worrying about it; he didn't want to wake up the sleeping kitty. Eventually, he slowly and gently slid his paw out from under him, without a murmur from Calvin.

Life in the Pen

As I write this post, I'm sitting on a couch in my family room with two purring cats on my lap and two dogs sleeping soundly on either side of me. It's a peaceful scene, but it didn't happen this way by accident. In my last post, I wrote about my first steps in getting all of the animals in the house, including the new kittens, to learn how live together peacefully together.

When the story left off, the kittens had graduated from their bathroom home to being able to play in Aaron's bedroom, or in our dining room. Gates kept the dogs out, but the cats could climb over and visit, which they did.

Calvin and Elsa Clair in Aaron's room.

My next step was to set up a pen in our family room. Imagine six gates connected to each other in a hexagonal safe area. The dogs and cats could run free, but the kittens were confined to the pen. This allowed everyone to sniff freely and get used to each other; in particular, it gave the dogs a chance to see the kittens run and pounce in dog territory, but it kept the tiny furballs safe from large paws and running Moose.

I never thought the dogs would knowingly hurt the kits; I just wanted to make sure there were no accidents, and that the kittens would learn that the dogs are friendly, and wouldn't be afraid of those towering, noisy creatures.

When I brought the kittens into the pen, I (or another family member) would sit in there with them. Mostly this was because someone or another would try to escape. Remember how Elsa Clair can fly? She'd try that from the pen as well--and she is fast! To keep them amused and distracted--and therefore, theoretically less likely to bold--I would put in one of our horizontal cat scratchers for Elsa Clair and Calvin to play in, on and around. Add a few mousies and other kitty toys and it would keep them busy--for the most part.

Elsa Clair in The Pen.

Calvin lounges in the scratcher.

Standing on top of the scratcher, Elsa Clair ponders escape from The Pen.

The two kittens play on the scratcher.

Athena is about to reach through the sides of the pen, as Calvin looks on.

Calvin and Jasper have a nose-to-nose moment.

Dawn looks down on the kittens. Seriously. She looks down on them. The Queen is Not Pleased.

By now, everyone was getting quite used to everyone else. The dogs were still Very Interested in the kittens and would watch them closely. But eventually, they'd get bored. The same with Dawn and Athena. Though Athena simply didn't like the fact that there was a place she was supposed to stay out of.

Therefore, it was only a matter of time...

The pen, without kittens. When I left it open after bringing Elsa Clair and Calvin back upstairs to the bathroom/bedroom, Athena would walk in and own the space. Of course.

Stay tuned; more cats, dogs and kittens in my next post, where The Walls Come Down!

Dogs + Cats + Kittens = ?

When Elsa Clair and Calvin came to live with us, we already had a full house, animally speaking. With three dogs and two cats already, we were adding two kittens, thus tipping the scale toward a cat-house if you count individuals, but we were way ahead in dog, if you count pounds.

So how do you introduce kittens to a group of animals that have already achieved some kind of balance of power?  I had introduced kittens to dogs already; I did that when Dawn and Athena joined the family. But I was somewhat clueless about how to bring kittens into a home where cats live.

It's one thing to read books and Web articles about how to do it--or how others have done it. It's completely different when you're trying to do it yourself.

So, armed with as much information as I could gather--including advice from people who live with multiple cats, I took a leap of faith. My hope was that the integration of Elsa Clair and Calvin would go faster than with our first two felines, and that there wouldn't be any lasting damage--to relationships (both human and non), to animals, and to our home.

As mentioned in my earlier post, Elsa Clair and Calvin started out living in our main bathroom. All the comforts two little kitties could want were in there: a couple of beds, a small cat climber, water, litter box, a scratcher and some toys. I visited them often, switching their sleeping blankets out so the other animals could get used to kitten smells. But for the first week or so, nobody saw the kittens in the bathroom. They were nothing more than interesting smells and sounds--perceived only through the bathroom door.

Calvin and Elsa Clair in their bathroom home.

The kittens on one of the interchangeable blankets.

Every night, when I brought them their last meal of the day, I spent some serious "just us" time with the kitties. I'd sit on their little drum-shaped cat house, and after they had eaten their fill, the two of them would eventually climb up onto my lap, and snuggle into a purring ball of adorable kittenness. I could have stayed there for hours. It was really special bonding time.

Calvin snuggling up to me in his bathroom home.

Here's a hint; it's hard to contain kittens. I would say near impossible if they have a mind to bolt. It didn't take the kittens long to realize it was easy enough to zoom out of the room when I opened the door to go in. I solved that problem with a gate in front of the door; I would have to step over the gate to get into the bathroom.

It only took a day or so for Calvin and Elsa Clair to figure out that they could climb the gate. Here's something else to note: kittens can fly. I swear it. On several occasions, Elsa Clair zipped up the gate and literally flew over the heads and backs of all three dogs who were always accompanying me to the bathroom where the interesting sniffs and sounds were coming from. The little miss would land on the floor behind the dogs and head off down the hall or into the office, often followed by a giant yet gentle Jasper who could not figure out who or what this creature was.

Eventually, the little purr-balls needed to expand their horizons, and once I felt they were comfortable and settled, I began bringing them to other rooms of the house.

It's a big world out there; Calvin ponders what it's like the Outside the Bathroom.

We began in Aaron's room. Away at school, Aaron was informed of this decision as the next step in kitty integration. A cat lover, Aaron was cool with it. Now the kittens could play and explore in a larger room.

The kittens played with toys and chased each other around--since they now had more room to run.

At first, I kept the door closed. I wanted the animals to be able to see each other but not reach each other. And due to Elsa Clair's ability to fly, I knew gates weren't a good solution. Eventually I devised a system with a screen wedged in the doorway, held in place by old Encylcopedia Brittanicas. (I knew they'd come in handy sometime.) So now everyone could watch everyone. And there was quite a lot of watching going on.

Lilah and Dawn watch through the screen as Calvin cautiously approaches.

 

Tucker observes kitty chaos from behind the screen.

Dawn and Athena most definitely did not like the new kittens and they registered their complaints with the management. There was hissing and growling and feline grumbling. But the cats could not contain their curiosity and they kept coming back for more.

First Elsa Clair, then Calvin figured out how to climb up the bedspread to get to the top of the comfy bed. Here, Elsa relaxes at the summit of Mount Aaronsbed.

As is true of all cats, Elsa Clair and Calvin were very helpful while I stayed with them in Aaron's room.

Elsa Clair helped work on my computer.

Calvin helped with the photography.

Elsa Clair dusted the books in the bookcase.

Eventually, I replaced the screen with a tall gate. This gave the big cats the opportunity to climb over the gate and come into the room--only allowed when I was there to oversee any interactions. Dawn would supervise from a high vantage point, and hiss if Elsa Clair or Calvin came too close. But she wouldn't leave; she had to keep an eye on these small furry pests who had invaded her home.

Once the kittens got used to Aaron's bedroom, I introduced them to another room--the dining room. This was where Athena and Dawn first were exposed to the dogs; with gates placed at both entrances to the room, the kittens were able to safely explore. The cats could come and go as they pleased, but the dogs were kept out.

Calvin and Elsa Clair explore the dining room.

Lilah and Tucker peer at Calvin through the gate.

Both kittens are now excellent photographer's assistants.

From a precarious perch on the gate, Dawn considers whether she wants to enter the Kitten Room.

From the other gate, Athena ponders the same action.

Once in the Dining Room of Kittens, Athena is not so sure she likes its current inhabitants. Calvin stays safely out of reach.

As the dogs and cats got used to the kittens, I gave them all more and more time to see and sniff each other. The kittens showed no fear of the dogs, which was awesome. I think they were more concerned about the cats. But things were improving every day; the dogs were less tense around the kittens as they got used to their smells. And there were less and less cat growls mixed in with the hisses.

We were off to a great start.

More to come in a future post...

The Continuing Story: Elsa Clair and Calvin Come to Live with Us

A few weeks ago, I introduced our two new kittens, Elsa Clair and Calvin. Unfortunately, the Part II of my story got interrupted by a little ol' hurricane named Sandy (which you can read about in Stormy Weather and Sandy's Aftermath.) That was followed by Snowstorm Athena (Stay tuned for that entry, still to be written).

We now return to our story...

Elsa Clair

Calvin

Tiny black and white balls of fluff and fur, the two kitties traveled in style to their new home from the vet clinic where I had adopted them, riding in one of our cat carriers.  Having done the research on how to introduce kittens to the current four-legged inhabitants of our house, I whisked the babies up the stairs and brought them right into the bathroom safe room I had prepared for them.

In the bathroom were a litter box, some toys, a blanket, a soft, circular bed and a curved floor scratcher. I opened the door of the crate and two curious faces peered out. Within seconds, the two Adorables tumbled into my home.

Calvin and Elsa Clair on the cat scratcher. They slept on it as if it was a bed.

I left them there to adjust and brought the crate downstairs for all the other creatures to investigate. Which they did. Quite thoroughly.

Athena inspects the crate. It smells like Kitten!

I spent lots of time with all the other creatures with whom I share my home: the dogs, Lilah, Jasper and Tucker, and the cats, Dawn and Athena. I left the kittens to get used to their new surroundings, checking in with them periodically to pet them and snuggle them and to feed them and get them settled for the night.

Calvin and Elsa Clair snuggling together and getting used to their surroundings.

I hadn’t named them yet, so I began to ponder some ideas. I had picked out names for the original pair of kitties. (If you missed it, read my last post where you can find about the kittens I thought I was adopting.) The male was going to be Max, as he reminded me of the troublemaker Max in the book Where the Wild Things are by Maurice Sendak. And the girl cat just seemed like a Chessie, named after the kitty logo for the shipping companyChessie Systems.  Those names belonged to the other cats as far as I was concerned, and I had to start all over.

The tiny girl kitty that came home was so thin and delicate; holding her felt like you were holding a bird in your hands; you could feel her ribs, and she was so, so light.  I starting thinking of black and white birds like the magpie (I could call her Maggie!). As for the boy: nothing. No ideas. I came up blank.

In conversations with my daughter, I was describing the new kittens and talking about black and white birds. I told her about Maggie. Another option I said was Adelie, like the penguin. But the cat was so thin, she didn’t look chubby like a penguin and that name just didn’t fit.  And that’s when Corinne’s boyfriend Luke said, “You should name her Claire.”

Ah yes, the character Claire from the TV show Lost (that Corinne refers to as the “TV Show That Must Not Be Named” because she was so angry at the cop-out ending).  In one of the early episodes of the series, when strange animals like polar bears began appearing out of nowhere, I was convinced that there was a penguin in the rustling bushes of the jungle. Turned out it was Claire. Thus, our new cat was not a penguin, so she should be Claire.

Sounded right. I said I’d think about it, try it out.

But the next morning I had other issues to deal with; I woke up to find nasty messes all over the safe room floor, and it didn’t take long to realize that the little girl kitty was sick.

Very sick. Not eating. Diarrhea. Hunched over. Lethargic.

She hadn’t been home 24 hours, and  before I knew it, she was on  her way to the emergency animal hospital.

As I signed her in, they asked me her name. Tears welled up in my eyes and I said, “She doesn’t even have an official name yet.” I wrote down Claire, not feeling right about it, but needing to put something.

Here’s something you learn when you are at the emergency clinic—whether it’s for a human or a pet. Time can go backwards. Or slow to stopping. For months—or an hour and a half—I watched little Maybe Claire breathe and purr. And even though I barely knew her then, I just kept willing her to be okay. She was too small, too tiny to be so ill. The vets admitted her to the clinic where they assessed her condition and gave her fluids.

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. Eventually, I brought little boy cat (still un-named) to the emergency vet, where I picked up Maybe Claire and brought them both back to the original vet where I had adopted them. There, she was nursed back to health, with her brother to keep her company. We went to visit them on a Sunday morning, bringing a bed and blanket from home so the kittens would have some familiar smells when they finally came back to live with us.

Finally, on Tuesday evening, after tests and xrays and lots of special food and tons of love, the kitties came home. (The vet didn’t charge me a nickel for their care; they were only focused on making everyone well, and felt so bad that Maybe Claire had gotten so sick.)           

On the way to the vet to pick them up, I was inspired.  The boy cat had a mask that reminded me of Calvin, from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. The comic character Calvin would dress up as Stupendous Man, with a mask and cape. Thus our little kitty became Calvin, Stupendous Cat.

Calvin, Stupendous Cat on a jar of sea glass that we use to prop the door open.

And I had become increasingly unhappy with Claire as a name for our thin little girl. The Claire of Lost was whiny, and disappears during the TV series, and maybe dies. (Sorry for any spoilers!)  I needed a replacement name, one that felt stronger. I suddenly remembered the lioness Elsa, from the book and movie Born Free. Elsa was the first lion raised by humans but taught to live in the wild.  She was a strong, loving character. Sold! But somehow, it didn’t seem right enough.  

When I had first considered Claire, I had looked the name up online. Claire—or more specifically Clair—means “light” in French. Think of the orchestral piece Clair de Lune (moonlight) by Claude Debussy. 

Elsa Clair on the same jar.

And then I realized. My strong little kitty, who fought off her illness, deserved two names. It just seemed right. Take off the “e” in Clair so she’s not quite named after the character, but more after “light,” and combine it with Elsa and there you have it: Elsa Clair. Perfect. I hear the name with a southern accent: “Elsa Clair, what are you doing up there? “Elsa Clair, leave that alone!”

           

As for Elsa Clair’s health? My best guess is that our little girl had picked up some little intestinal bug. I think she was thin to begin with; perhaps her three brothers bullied her a little around the food bowl? After she was all better and settled back home, both Calvin and one of the big cats got sick, too, though they both recovered within a day.

Today, Elsa Clair and Calvin are healthy and energetic. Calvin outweighs Elsa Clair by quite a bit, but she makes it up for it with the spunk and Don’t Mess With Me of a lioness.

And I couldn’t imagine having any other cats. These little furry fuzzheads crawled into my arms and my heart within minutes of my meeting them. They so obviously chose me. And so obviously were meant to be part of my family.

It was simply Meant To Be.

It's a big world out there. In a future post, I'll write about how the kittens and the other four-legged family members met each other and learned to get along.