Arturo's Story

We finally capitulated to their primary demand.

We bought a huge dog crate and assembled it in the kitchen with a bed and a litter box. One day one of us unceremoniusly scooped Arturo up and abruptly deposited him into [what we hoped would be] his temporary home.

Incredibly, he adjusted with lightning speed, not only to his new situation, but to being confined. It probably helped that the cage served to protect him from the other cats, who were standoffish at first.

Once or twice a week one of them would mosey in and investigate his territory. He accepted these occasional forays with varying degrees of tolerance, drawing an absolute line only when the litter box perimeter was breached.

Meanwhile, the last of the R series was born.

Back in our kitchen, Arturo was the calm eye in a hurricane of frequently quarrelsome felines. He remained healthy and well-balanced, though frequently bored. He entertained himself much of the time, finding anything outside the cage instantly and utterly desireable, especially items just out of paw's reach; even less-favored food passed muster if it was snaggable.

Arturo's favorite interactive games included attacking various toys THROUGH the hammock fabric and leaping up to detain lures dangled through the roof. When we knelt and improvised a lap in front of the cage door, his affectionate displays reached unsurpassed levels. While Arturo was technically out of the cage at these times, he never asked for the obvious: liberation. We wished we could let him out.