Adopting a cat, part 3: those turbulent first 24 hours
The decision has been made: my husband and I have chosen two shelter cats. Here’s all the excitement from their arrival and first night with us.
«It’s obvious, isn’t it: Haru and Olly» – «One of them will definitely be Lorenzo.» My husband and I have rarely disagreed as much as we did after our visit to the animal shelter. He fancied a stocky, red tomcat plus his partner, while I had fallen for a petite couple.
I don’t want to say I prevailed. But after extensive debate, we finally ended up with my choice, given their trusting and harmonious nature: Haru and Olly. Or as we name them, Jasper and Joy.
A tactical retreat
Less than a week later, the time comes: the JJs arrive. The first nosey that pokes out of the transport box is orange. It’s Joy, the (usually) reserved female. She begins to meticulously walk and sniff around our living room. Then it’s off under the sofa. Jasper, the (usually) trusting male, follows her.
Source: Darina Schweizer
I’m used to cats doing this: in new environments, they retreat to a safe place from where they can observe various goings-on. In doing so, they keep seeing our eyes poking under the sofa – a sign they can trust us.
From a cat’s point of view, however, only the food bowls we put out are truly familiar. According to guides (page in German), cat parents should bring food to new animals near their hiding place. Just like the litter box. This way, the sofa becomes a fortress. But are we really seen as enemies?
It sure feels so at first. Although Jasper and Joy were incredibly cuddly at the shelter, they shy away at every little noise and refuse to be stroked within our four walls. We’d almost be let down if we didn’t observe slow change…
The fortress crumbles
With every hour that passes, the front under the sofa shifts. Instead of squeezing into the corner, they approach the edge. Then they eat for the first time and go for a walk around the dining table. After all, the chair is a more comfortable place to sit, and pets are included there. One thing’s already apparent: Joy is interested in the outside world. Again and again she jumps onto the windowsill to gaze after cars and crows. We cleared away any plants, of course. This is feline territory now.
Source: Darina Schweizer
This territory is expanding faster than the Mongol Empire. Little by little, we adapt entirely to feline wishes. We drape blankets on the armchair and sofa, place cardboard boxes in front of them and stow fragile decorative figurines in the cupboard. We leave our tree of fairy lights sparkling for the time being.
Jasper seems to like it. He immediately jumps onto the TV furniture and starts playing with the moving branches. Leave or remove? Scold or ignore? We’re in a tough spot, but for the time being we let him go everywhere – apart from the dining table and stove. They’re the only restricted zones.
A conquest of foreign territories
No matter how high up, occupied or narrow a piece of furniture is: Jasper will conquer it. Joy is the cautious one in tow. The dynamic between the two quickly becomes clear: wherever he goes, she’s three steps behind him. If he’s out of sight, she calls for him. And if she does dare go somewhere on her own, she purrs to encourage herself. That’s probably what affirmations for cats sound like.
Source: Darina Schweizer
Jasper doesn’t need any of that. Throwing caution to the wind, he inspects room after room, which we open one by one according to recommendations (page in German). As expected, Joy jumps onto every windowsill again. She never loses sight of the outside world or Jasper. This way, she also never misses when he approaches the main command centre – the room where, from a cat’s point of view, the most important portions are served operations are coordinated: the kitchen.
It’s where we open the first can of wet food. Jasper pounces on it as if he were on the verge of starvation. Joy barely moves – and is pushed aside after 15 seconds when Jasper moves from his empty food bowl to hers, which is still half full. Food over love, it seems.
I can already sense that this could become a problem. As could Joy’s joy of digging. The cat litter is spread all over the floor after she goes to the toilet. Let’s just hope they stay quiet at night.
Source: Darina Schweizer
Nocturnal revelry
But silent nights remain a pipe dream. When we close the bedroom door, things do get quiet. Eerily quiet. My imagination runs wild. Did I leave the window open? A defiant meow reassures me: the JJs are still there. They also remind us of this at 3 and 4 a.m. In between, there are alternating bonks and bangs. Sleeping? Yeah right. I almost laugh out loud. I already struggle with noises at night, and I adopt a four-legged siren and a hairy shredder of all things.
Source: Darina Schweizer
One thing in advance: the coming nights are much quieter. The first meow doesn’t sound until 9 a.m. – maybe because we don’t feed them straight after getting up on principle, or maybe simply because we’re lucky. But honestly, what cat household doesn’t need a bit of that? As they say, «All you need is love… and a cat.»
Source: Darina Schweizer
*Going forward, I’ll be reporting on everything new cat parents need to know. Which toys, scratching posts, food and litter trays are any good, which cat nets make balconies safe, how to stop cats from devouring their meals and much more. Follow me to not miss a thing! And if you’ve also lived a first night with cats, why not tell us about it in a comment?
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Darina Schweizer
Senior Editor
Darina.Schweizer@digitecgalaxus.chI like anything that has four legs or roots. The books I enjoy let me peer into the abyss of the human psyche. Unlike those wretched mountains that are forever blocking the view – especially of the sea. Lighthouses are a great place for getting some fresh air too, you know?
