Happy Kitty

Late last spring, our cat Athena was getting to be so much cuddlier and schmoozier. She would occasionally jump on laps to be petted. She would let Andrew wear her as a hat or a neck-scarf. She was becoming so much more personable and part of the family instead of just Gopher-Killer-el-Supremo.

And then we committed the sin.
We got a kitten.
And we brought it into Athena's house.
An energetic and bouncy kitten, right into Athena's abode.

Athena was NOT happy.

Eight months have passed. The kitten has become a little calmer. The kitten has come to know her place and defer to the elder cat. But mostly, Athena has reconciled herself to the reality that the little monster is here to stay and that we like her, stupid though she be. In the last few weeks, Athena has begun to jump on laps again. She allows us to pet her again. She is becoming personable again. She's stopped the hissing and growling. Sometimes she will even condescend to let the kitten sleep on the same bed or couch that she is using.

Yesterday the kitten was taken to the vet. She has proved herself to be utterly and completely hopeless as a hunter. She doesn't even much like going outside. So the claws must go. The declawing procedure was today, but due to car/van unavailability, the kitten had to spend two nights in the clinic.

Athena is in heaven. Loads of attention. No kitten. And sunbeams shining through the window. (Hey, I agree with her about the sunbeams!)

Tomorrow the kitten comes home. In about three weeks, we disrupt Athena's life yet again by putting her in a car for over an hour (yikes!!) and moving her to a new house and new outdoor-territory (probably with significantly fewer bonbons gophers). I feel so sorry for my dear little huntress. She works so hard to keep us rodent-free. And this is how we treat her in return: one trauma after another.