We had a rough few days here. When last I posted, little Pippin was at the vet to be neutered. I picked him up Wednesday evening to bring him home, still dopey and out of it from the anesthesia.
When we first got home and let him come out of the carrier, Sylvia was freaked out and quickly started to hiss at him and back up. Luckily, I had read (in looking for resources on introducing a new kitten into a home) that this can happen after a vet visit, especially with any sort of surgery. The theory is basically that the kitty who stayed home isn’t sure they recognize the returning kitty, or is worried that the returning kitty is a danger because they smell and act funny. Cats are far more dependent on smell for identification than we are, and the strong odors from the vets office plus the surgical trauma make the other cat smell very different from their usual scent. On top of that, poor little Pippin was still barely able to walk. I can understand how the instinct might be to fear another cat who is staggering around – various infectious and deadly diseases can produce odd behavior and neurological issues.
So my husband quickly retreated with Pippin to the bedroom to watch him while I finished out my last work call and took a (rather stressed) Sylvia on her walk. What followed was a rough night. We took turns spending time with Pippin, who couldn’t understand while the whole family couldn’t be together, and why he was confined to the bedroom. He also clearly wasn’t feeling great. I have rarely seen a cat look so very sorry for himself. He exuded utter misery from every bit of his huddled furry body. Pippin knew that Sylvia and myself were outside each time my husband took his turn and apparently would spend the time crouched in misery on the corner of the bed watching the door.
Outside the bedroom, Sylvia would approach the door and hiss. She wasn’t sure she wanted my love either – I clearly smelled weird too from giving Pippin cuddles. I spent the night sleeping on the couch shunned by one kitty while the other slowly recovered from anesthesia in the bedroom. Around 4:30 am, it was clear Pippin had recovered, and was looking for play. Sylvia kept stalking around the door, annoyed to be kept out. So we let him out. This is where it became clear Pippin has matured – much as I am sure he was disappointed, he realized Sylvia did not want to play with him, and was still pretty weirded out, so he didn’t push trying to approach her.
We weren’t back at square one like when we first brought him home and Sylvia wouldn’t be in the same room. But Thursday and Friday were tough nonetheless. Sylvia hissed when Pippin approached too near, and clearly was suspicious of any close contact with him. Friday morning she was ok sleeping on different sides of the bed with him, but still wasn’t comfortable playing. You could see Pippin missed his playmate.
I’ll be honest – it was tough for us to stay patient with Sylvia. For most of Thursday we could “get it”. While Pippin behaved pretty normally, even I could still smell the vet smells in his fur, and I do not have the nose of a cat. But at one point I did feel I had to remove her from the kitchen when she tried to trap him under the kitchen work table and whack at him, completely unprovoked. By Friday, we were feeling pretty low on patience as he looked (and smelled) normal to us. Sylvia wasn’t the one who went without food for 24hrs and suffered a 7hr trip to the vet complete with (minor) surgery.
But I worked really hard to have empathy for her. I knew that getting mad and impatient wouldn’t make it easier for her to finish working through whatever her issues were. She wasn’t angry with Pippin, but distressed. There’s a difference in her body posture when she growls or hisses that shows me the difference – subtle difference between offensive and defensive stances. Was she still worried he was somehow contagious? Did the smells of vet on him bring back her own trauma of a year and a half ago when she was spayed (she had a week of cone-head, which Pippin was spared)? I don’t know and can only speculate.
So instead, I kept it to a simple stern “Sylvia” to change the focus of her attention when she hissed at him unprovoked, and spent time “rewarding” both of them for being near each other with copious treats.
I cannot tell you how happy we all were to see Sylvia and Pippin wrestling like nothing had happened Saturday morning on the bed. I didn’t mind at all that this significantly delayed making the bed that day.
I won’t say all has been entirely rosy since then – but it seems we’re back on a normal track. Pippin is getting bigger, so his usual rough play is delivering more force. Thus he’s currently getting a fair bit of smack down from Sylvia when he gets too rough while playing. He totally does need to learn to keep his claws to himself when playing with his family (as evidenced by the scratches on my hands), so frankly, we’ll let Sylvia do her thing there.