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"The Hiss Parade"
Mr. Tally had the squirt bottle in his hand, I had the Nature's Miracle and a sponge in mine, and we both had butterflies in our stomachs. Sammy's introduction had been just awful. We braced ourselves.
Buster approached the open door. Cats flocked from everywhere and arranged themselves in the hallway. Buster, meet the cats. Cats meet Buster. Showdown time. Buster moves forward. He feints to the left, and then breaks away to the right. Straight into the den. "Great", says Mr. Tally, throwing himself protectively over the hard drive. Buster's tail goes up. It's wiggling. Aargh! I rush forward with the Nature's Miracle. I'm on my hands and knees searching for the pee stain. There's NO MARK!! Oblivious to my panic, Buster proceeds through the kitchen and sails into the dining room. As he rounds past the doorway he has a considerable hissy fit over the life size cat statue on the floor. Mr. Tally and I tried not to laugh. After all the fears about spraying, we didn't expect to have to separate a cat from a piece of porcelain. This draws a crowd.
By now, little 7 lb., Spoiled Rotten I Get Away With Everything Princess Tabby Kenya has mustered up her courage. She's the only female, and she's used to being in charge. She steps forward. She wrinkles her dainty little nose, bares her teeny tiny fangs and hisses. Buster hisses back.
Oh My.
Kenya reels back in shock, not used to being talked back to. Donovan turns to his left and audibly thwups Tally square between the eyes, Tally does his banshee squeal, Zeke bolts for behind the bed, Gizmo starts his sing song chant, Boots hisses, and Sammy sneezes. Buster is unfazed. He continues to explore every corner of every room, while mom is squirting Feliway everywhere.
By late afternoon he had discovered catnip and the Beserks. He's going have to learn to navigate the hardwood floors at full tilt. His front end and back end don't always go in the same direction, and I hear considerable skidding around corners and a few thunks when he brakes too late. He's racing up and down the cat trees, climbing ontop of everything and playing with all the toys. This is one happy little kitten. The others are hissing at about a 3 on a scale of 1 to 10 on the Hiss-O-Meter, but Buster is totally oblivious, and after a while the others don't seem to care anymore.
Then, for one awful moment I couldn't find him. We searched *everywhere*. And when I saw his little shaved tail sticking out from under the harp cover, I stopped breathing. OhMyGawd! She is NOT a scratching post. It's all my fault. After my preoccupation with the introduction, I completely forgot to spray around her with Boundary. I knew I was starting to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." My heart was in my throat. I lifted the cover, expecting her beautiful sounding board to be scratched. But little Buster was fast asleep against her base with a sopping wet catnip toy cuddled protectively between his front paws, and I swear he was smiling.
And that's it. We didn't even isolate him on Saturday night, although I didn't get much sleep listening for the fight that never happened. After all my fears, Buster's introduction into the Tally household turned out to be a non-event. I emptied a can of Boundary all around the harp and music stand, and I said bad mommy a thousand times.
I settled down Saturday night with shaking hands, and a glass of wine, muttering my new mantra.
8 is enough. 8 is enough. 8 is enough.
Tally’s Tales
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Well, we opened the bedroom door on Saturday, and let Buster out into The Rest Of The House.
