Mr. Face rapidly progresses. He is master of the upstairs, free from all restraints and closed doors. Blind, as always (anybody got a spare cat retina?), he knows where his food and litterbox are, where the scratching post is, and most importantly, where the bed is. He is quite the cuddlebug, and spends all night (and likely most of the day) comfortably ensconced on our bed. The mystery of the stairs continues to elude him… won’t even attempt them, and seems to wonder why we have a bottomless pit at the edge of the hallway. He must have lived in a ranch house in his former life.
The remaining cats are of varied opinion on his continued presence… Ringo is his buddy and they have congenial sniffs daily. Oliver is deathly afraid of him and creeps around on his rare ventures upstairs, running at the sight of him. Merrick pretends he doesn’t exist and refuses to come upstairs at all, preferring to poop in the dining room as an expression of his distain for all things Face.
Dolly is learning about electricity… because Face can’t eat at the high table with the rest of the fat boys, his food stays on the ground… an irrisistable temptation for dogs. So Dolly wears an invisible fence collar which responds to an indoor transmitter which creates a “no-fly zone” around Face’s dish… so far she has run from the beeping, but it’s only a matter of time before the zap gets her. How many zaps until she learns to not eat cat food? We’ll keep you posted.
In short, Face is a normal cat. He seems to have a happy little life… dull, perhaps, but safe and warm and loved. It’s been a long road to get here, but we are richer for his presence.
See pictures of Mr. Face here. To read the rest of the articles about Mr. Face, please click here.