My street clowns and I have passed our two year anniversary. Over the course of that time we established "house rules" and some routines, which have morphed and altered due to different needs and comfort levels.
It's pretty safe to say everyone is comfortable now, although several of these tiny miscreants still have a certain level of hypervigilance. For the most part, they know they are loved, safe and fed on a regular basis.
Very early on multiple layers of protection were put on all upholstered furniture and the dining room table. Very early on it was apparent that trying to keep seven cats off furniture was an impossible dream. Amazingly, they rarely bother with the kitchen counters. It could be the almost constant presence of someone nearby, or the fact that there is often a lot of activity there. Whatever it is, hurray for that!
Since a nasty gallbladder attack in late October, I have been on a "restricted" diet. Some of the restrictions don't even matter to me, because I don't eat beef or pork or "greasy" fish (bleh!!) nor do I eat any deep fried foods. Easy peasy.
Not so easy is being forbidden to have any raw vegetables (no salad), no peas, chick peas, beans, creamy cheeses (brie, ricotta, provolone dolce.) Nothing spicy (Aggghhh!!) which means no garlic and no red pepper....no chili, burritos, spaghetti piccante, tomato sauce arrabbiata or minestrone soup, no tortellini or taralli. And no eggs.
Most days I was in the habit of having an over easy egg with one piece of toast in the morning. I felt sort of lost without some protein. So, I substituted sliced turkey from the deli counter at the supermarket.
It didn't take any time at all for Scruff to catch on. I cannot resist his turquoise eyes pleading with me for just a nibble. However, not being a total idiot, I made him wait until I was done and then gave him a little schnib. In the manner of cats, he's a pretty smart guy, so rather than taking his little piece on the floor, he headed over the the dining room table for privacy. That way, six other cats were less likely to know he was getting a special treat.
Pretty soon, he started waiting there on the dining table for all of his meals. It didn't bother me because the table is well protected and Scruffy has the run of the house all day and night. There is no real need for him to eat in his designated spot in a cage in the back room. Actually, it made it a bit easier to be sure he was getting his asthma medication where I could keep an eye on him and other interlopers.
Just the other day I caught him lying down while eating from his bowl. Seems the former Mr. Prince of the Piazzetta has made himself at home enough to sprawl out and relax while enjoying his breakfast and the view of the trees and birds just outside the window. This former feral is a full fledged housecat now.
