Well the mystery I brought home is a litter trained, purring cat who loves being brushed, a good tummy rub and head massage.
Which is all A-OK with me. I could do without having my face stomped on between 5 and 7am and ears assaulted with meows each morning because IT IS BREAKFAST TIME AND WHY AREN'T YOU FEEDING ME? but I am learning to accept that due to my love for this cat I will never sleep in again.
In my last post, just before bringing her home, I suggested one of the items on your shopping list before adopting a cat should be a cat bed. Which, yes, in most circumstances, is a very important purchase.
CC, however, has shunned the expensive, oh-so-soft cat bed and prefers sleeping straight on the floorboards under my bed, curled up on a pair of my jeans on the floor, or, if I'm lucky, she shares my bed with me.
And these last couple of weeks she won't leave my bedroom. Ever.
I titled this post "The Monster Outside the Door" for a reason.
And that reason is a king charles cavalier named Toby.
He's staying with us for another month until his daddy gets back, and he's the sweetest thing ever. Except when he sees CC. He pretty much wants to eat CC.
Lacking doors in any of the common areas of the house, the safest place for CC (and unfortunately, her litter box) is in my room with me.
Sometimes we lock him outside on gorgeous days like today and open my door wide to give her some freedom... but it seems it doesn't feel safe outside my room. She stares at the open door with wary apprehension, sure the monster is going to round the corner any moment. We've tried introducing them, but it's all a bit too traumatising for CC.
But it's only temporary. And she's currently lying beside me, meowing with indignation each time I stop stroking her.
I better get back to it.
A pet owner's job is never done.