After three weeks of persistence, the mixed coat cat who’d been hanging around the house since we were on vacation in Wisconsin earned herself a trip to the veterinarian for a well-kitty check-up.  Passing that, she has been moved into the house for the last two days.

Her arrival was not without some drama.  First, I believe she was the perpetrator of Millie’s “black eye” the weekend we returned from Wisconsin.  Then, after calling her a girl for nearly three weeks, hubby and I took a closer look and, seeing two tufts of fur, we concluded she was a young he.  We tried several names on for size, playing off Natasha.  I started with Boris, hubby came up with a few, and we eventually decided upon Rocky, of Rocky and Bullwinkle fame.  Plus (s)he had has a rocky life.  Friday morning, Dr. Valeri dashed the boy kitty idea straight off by informing me he was indeed a she, and instead of about six months old, she was more like 2-3.  Years. No, she isn’t spayed.

Rocky is healthy though, now has all her shots, and has been given antibiotics for a tail injury that is healing nicely.  She has behaved like a perfect lady all day.  And I’m re-thinking her name — Roxy sounds better for a girl kitty.

When we got home, Roxy came in the house and watched from her crate while I brought pieces of dog crate into the house.  This is our kitty quarantine — until we find out if Roxy’s house manners are acceptable, she will stay in this crate over night and while we’re not around to watch her.  The crate is roomy, has room for a litter box, a towel, food bowls, a scratching box, and room to move around as well.  Once the crate is set up, I place Roxy in it and have to leave the house to attend to some other errands.  She’ll also be safe from the two kitties who rule this house and are very curious about her but haven’t accepted her yet.  The last thing I want to have happen is have two cats who don’t get along with each other gang up on “the new cat.”  Of course, this cat is afraid of nobody, and she did “blacken” Millie’s eye (I think) a couple of weeks ago.  I’m pretty sure she can take care of herself, so maybe I’m protecting two wussy house kitties from a “big, bad” street kitty.  Either way.  Kitties are safe, and that’s what’s important.

When I get back, I corral all kitties in the kitchen and open the crate door.  This becomes untenable very quickly — Natasha and Ajax want to roam.  I close the door between the parlor and the rest of the hose and push the swinging kitchen door back to the open position.  This allows Natasha and Ajax to spread out into their comfort zones, and I can keep an eye on Roxy while I work on the computer.  Everyone is reasonably happy.

Natasha is interested and intrigued by Roxy.  They have touched noses and exchanged hisses several times, but mostly they are cautious around one another.  Ajax is interested in everything Roxy does, but, after a couple of years of his friendly overtures being rebuffed by Natasha, he’s not going to press his luck.  Everywhere Roxy has gone, Ajax has followed up with a good sniff — and he will usually lay down on the spot.  I think he’s spreading his scent around to make sure Roxy knows what he smells like.  All three cats seem to be going through the get acquainted phase quite well.  I’m sure they will be able to co-exist at the very least.

But what would Roxy’s house manners be like?  It didn’t take long to find out.  She’s been very polite.  She loves attention.  This morning, I witnessed her using Ajax’s litter box.  This afternoon, she used the scratch box.  Those were our main concerns with house manners, and so far, she’s passing with flying colors.

Natasha’s reaction is most interesting.  I think there’s some jealously.  Roxy was sprawled across my neck and shoulder (Natasha’s preferred spot) last night.  Natasha sat at the foot of my chair, and I invited her up.  She knew Roxy was there.  She jumped onto my lap and stayed there for a long time, making sure she wasn’t left out of getting attention.

This is Roxy as she and Natasha discuss the etiquette of walking up behind a cat when she’s eating.  Natasha exchanged a nasty look, and shifted her position to where she could keep an eye on Roxy while she ate.  I think the camera flash caused Roxy to blink.

So far, Roxy, the cat who came from parts unknown and refused to leave — even when I abandoned her here for a week while I went to San Antonio — is fitting in very nicely.  When I got back from San Antonio, she came running up, looking a little thinner than when I left, and she immediately began eating dog food I put out for the dogs.  Clearly, she wasn’t going somewhere else when we were gone.