Hello! I’m happy to report from a house with two kittens who love each other, like being with each other, aren’t afraid of each other and are living without a door between them.
It took six days to get here.
On Thursday, we were finally making some progress. I was bringing them together once every hour or two, but holding one of them while they got treats. Then, in the evening, I let them stand next to each other. I let them walk around. They had a very gentle, very sweet thunder.
And I’ll be honest: I cried in relief. It was the first sign that they were both aware of an issue that needed to be worked through.
But I’m not stupid. I told The Boy that Oliver and I were sleeping downstairs at least through Saturday. Then I went upstairs to brush my teeth.
I thought about separating them before going up. Then I decided not to. I should have. Seeing the bed made Obi nervous and he hissed. Oliver chased. It wasn’t a bad fight and they sort of broke it up on their own so Oliver and I sat on the floor and asked Obi to come forgive us before we went to bed. He did.
There was some hissing and a run up the stairs to the bed on Friday. Setbacks, but they were even milder fights that were breaking up on their own. They also spent long periods of time apart because I was out of the house where I couldn’t hear them crying for each other.
And then it was Saturday. The first thing I did was spray animal odor eliminating Febreeze EVERYWHERE upstairs. I mean I coated the bottom of our bed with it. And the cat shelf. And the love seat. If anything smelled like fear or anger, I wanted to drown it in perfumey, olfactory torturing, chemical odor.
Then I gave the boys treats in the living room. Then I separated them. Then… We went upstairs.
And they were fine.
So we went back to the living room and I set them both on the rug.
And they were fine.
After a while, Oliver went upstairs for a nap. I saw Obi follow a couple minutes later. And I held my breath. And waited. And waited.
After ten minutes I couldn’t handle it anymore and I headed for the stairs. I got to them just as Obi came down. Clearly, he had taken a serious licking. But the good kind – his hair was standing up in several directions, spit styled by his brother.
Oliver and I spent one more night in the basement and the cats were separated when The Boy and I went to the gym, but we seem to be back to normal. Obi gets annoyed by his brother, as we all do, but the fear is gone.
And the thunder has returned.