It's been pretty hot here, and I have not see hide nor hair of Nash. Tim catches a glimpse of him, but he doesn't stick around. When I get home in the evening, he's gone to where ever he gits to.
In any case, I saw him straggling up the driveway today as I was headed for church. I asked Tim to feed him and then William and I took off. William was headed to church in his wagon, and there was no holding him off that once he was loaded and ready to roll.
I got home today, and Nash came back. He looked just exhausted, and it appears that he'd been in a cat fight. Doesn't surprise me, because we have one mean bob-tail next door. I felt so sorry for him that I brought him inside. We were all gathered around the table eating. I offered him some meat loaf, and he tore into it like he was starving.
It's become a problem...I cannot leave food for him outside anymore. It's drawing a lot of cats, which makes Tim unhappy. It's also drawing at least one raccoon. I chewed on my meatloaf, and I said to Tim, "You know, we need to bring him in."
Tim chewed on his food and he said nothing.
"We've talked about it, and you agreed to it. Is this going to be a problem?"
"No. It's fine."
I said, "Buck was a problem."
And Tim said, "It will be okay."
We went to Walmart today. We bought a litter pan, and some good litter. We bought dry catfood, and canned cat food (yes, Bob...I sprang for the expensive stuff that comes in little cans.) We bought Advantage II. A brushing glove (Nash has long hair.) A place mat for his little china dishes. We spent $80, which just goes to prove my theory that there is no such thing as a free cat.
He has the run of the basement and the kitchen so far, and as I become sure that fleas are not going to be a problem, he'll be allowed on the rest of first floor. As I become sure that he doesn't have any behaviors that we need to be concerned about, he will be allowed free run of all three floors.
So far, he is a quiet cat who studies us closely. If you remember, there were two cats that looked alike, and it appears that we got the quiet one. He has been a perfect gentleman.
I just walked into the kitchen and saw him sitting quietly under the kitchen table, with a cobweb across the top of his head from a recent explore through the basement. "Hi, Nash," I said, reaching down to pick off the cobweb and to give him a little pet. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Late Edit: This morning, when I got up and went into the kitchen, Nash laid sprawled on his fuzzy blanket. I went to the basement to check the thing that I was most worried about, and was very relieved to discover that he understands full well the purpose of the litterbox. I came back upstairs and opened a can of cat food, and he eagerly came over to eat. I made my coffee and filled his dry food. When I returned to the kitchen for a refill on my coffee, he was once again stretched out on his blanket, studying his new situation through sphinx eyes. I reached down to pet him and after a hesitation, I felt his little body relax, and he began to purr.
Another late edit: Last night, getting ready for bed, I looked out our new french doors and saw the image of my cat standing outside looking in. I said to Tim, "Look! There's Nash's brother." He said, "Just come to bed." I said, "They must have a bond, that this one is staying so close to the house," and Tim said, "Just never you mind about that."