We brought Molasses home last night. The extremely mellow, quiet guy J had met showed his true "I'm still a kitten" stripes - we had a pony romping around the house and meowing constantly for attention. Sweet, crazy little Murphy kitten was not his usual self - very cautious, on guard - even though it looked like he had the spunk to take Molasses down, despite size.
Mom had said they'd fight.
Given our mushy hearts, though, we stressed. That we might have lost the Murphy we had just gotten to know. That Molasses wouldn't bond with us. That the two would never get along and we'd be stuck monitoring 2 nervous wrecks with claws from here on out.
I slept on the loveseat to keep Molasses company downstairs. J got the bed and Murphy upstairs.
True, this morning the chase was more playful, less evil and they spent more time setting, only slightly on edge, in the same room. I keep telling myself to give it a bit of time before stressing, but I also see it breaking J's heart.
Here's hoping we can draw up a treaty tonight.
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2 comments:
It really wasn't as bad as that. At least not in retrospect.
True, true. This was a first reaction, after the first night, which was pretty bad for us. It's since evolved and I need to update the story....
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