A progress report on these Canarian "expatriate" moggies now living in Blighty: They don't like the bloody weather any more than I do and spend all day long, curled up tightly under a thick duvet, appearing only when the sun goes down for the odd meal. I've tried peeling them off the bed, but they just slink right back up under the covers and Velcro themselves back into place again. The lumps in the bed are hardly discernible and, if it weren't for the odd sound of snoring, you'd could almost forget that they're there.
That isn't really a problem on it's own, because it's perfectly normal for cats to sleep for around 16 hours a day, but they're not just sleeping, they're also still hiding from everything. Their general behaviour is not normal (for them), they aren't eating and drinking as they should be doing and they're showing absolutely no signs of settling in. And, if they're showing no signs of relaxing and settling after a month, then I think one has to accept that they may never do so.
Well, I know I will never do so, so I shouldn't be surprised really.
Balu did seem to be making some progress, but then suddenly became timid and scared, running and hiding from every other strange noise, person and thing. He's been cowering, belly slinking on the floor and even hisses at me, none of which he had EVER done before in all his 7 years. He became so uncomfortable with it, his walks in the garden got suspended. Yesterday, I tried taking Kitty out for a stroll in the morning, which was going fine, until my mother came towards her. Kitty immediately took fright, tried to run away, got caught up in her harness, then started hissing, spitting and flailing. With some difficulty, I was able to subdue Kitty and rush her back inside the house again, but not before she'd lacerated my hands. Kitty's gouged through the tip of one of my fingers so deeply it probably needed a stitch, which gives you an idea of how jumpy and scared they are.
The cats spend all day hiding, coming out just long enough to eat and even then I mostly have to take them to the dish and they'll run away from it and go back into hiding again, immediately, if there's even the slightest noise.
These two cats, I bottle fed (with much help from the dog) from when they were 2-3 weeks old. Balu spent his first weeks sleeping inside my T-shirt, he spent the next 7 years kissing and cuddling me and generally being a fungus. Now he doesn't want to do any of that. As a friend said, he has no-one else to blame (except me) for the horrid move and the current situation he doesn't like. It really hurts. And now I feel like I've lost "my baby" (on top of everything else.)
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