Cocoa the cat arrived late last night, after J's memorial service. My MIL dropped him off after an hour's drive back from what was likely a long day. I hope we've relieved her of at least one worry.
Cocoa's stress levels weren't too bad; he's in the dining room, shut off from the purrymouses who were last seen this morning avidly watching the door. However, he seems very keen for human company and I feel awfully guilty that we're out of the house today. Each time we enter the room, he leaps out of the bottom shelf of the bookcase where he's been hiding behind the books and deposits himself in our laps, arching, kneading, purring, trying desperately to vocalise a breathy miaow. (You know we've provided him with plenty of safe, dark, soft hidey-holes, right? But he's chosen the bookcase instead.) I'm pretty sure he hasn't used the litterbox yet though so there must be some deal of aggravation for the poor puss. Besides which, our whole house must stink of the purrymouses to him. My MIL will visit him during the day today, thank goodness.
Three cats in one house suddenly feels like a lot. We're glad to give Cocoa a home and it'll be only a month or so until he's likely to be settled, but just at the moment I can't believe cats have taken over my existence so rapidly.
Thinking of J each time I look at her cat with his long, black fur and large green/yellow eyes.
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