random thoughts – Day 1,622 – (Monday) – six months in

Kiki lounging.

Kiki had a vet appointment in March. On that traumatic day, I had to chase her all over the house and trick her into her crate to go there. the chase went from room to room, behind the couch, atop the desk, up the stairs and back down. With all the furniture moving and running around, it was one of the best home workouts I'd ever had, but beyond that it was just stressful. I finally was able to trap her in the bathroom (the only room on the first floor that has a door) and get her into the carrier. She wailed the whole way to the vet and through the entire visit.

The file notes from the visit said she was very anxious. The vet said to give here three to six months to get comfortable with me and being at The BungaLowell. True to the timeline, in the past couple weeks, at six months and a bit after the day she came here, she seems a bit more relaxed.

She lays on the rug in the living room, sometimes sprawled with her belly exposed. She runs away less often when I come near her. If I say her name and extend my hand, she comes to me for pats and lets me hand feed her treats. One of her toys, a small cloth rope thing was marketed as “quiet for nighttime play” finally, after six months of being ignored like most of her other playthings, was found on the dining room rug this past weekend, largely shredded. Whether it was played with or murdered, it was a new activity. Today, Kiki delivered what feels like the next milestone of getting comfortable.

Kiki rubbing on my sandal.

As I sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, foot clad in my $8 rubber slides from Aldi (a real bargain for the lightweight comfort), Kiki walked across the room. She got close to my foot and rubbed the top of her head against my slide. Then she rubbed each of her cheeks on the edge of it. Not once, but a few times. She walked back across the rug, and a few minutes later, returned to rub on my shoe again. 

This action was repeated several different times. So much progress! 

The cloud that hangs over the warm fuzzy glow is her next vet appointment, scheduled for a Saturday morning in late September. The fear is that getting her into the carrier to go becomes another traumatic event and act of human betrayal that sets us backwards on all the progress. She still runs away if it seems like I might pick her up, so I haven't executed yet the imagined road trips to nowhere to get used to car rides with no consequences. I better get busy.