Bringing in Another Cat, That Is, Introducing a Second (or Subsequent) Cat into Our Home.

Cats are absolutely fascinating animals. They very quickly win over the hearts of their caregivers, even those who consider themselves die-hard “dog people” and have a rather low opinion of cats. I used to belong to that group many years ago :) The truth, however, is that when you get to know a cat more closely, it turns out that a cat is not at all indifferent to human presence, that they become attached to their caregiver, that they miss them, that a human is important to them—and certainly not only in the context of filling their bowls every day. It is not a dog-like “constant readiness,” but a quiet joy and a clear desire to be in the presence of a beloved human, a willingness to give up a nap in a favorite armchair simply because the caregiver went to the kitchen and must be followed, joyful greetings at the door, curling up to sleep on the pillow next to our head. All of this makes one cat very quickly stop being enough for us. We think that since our cat sleeps so much, they must be bored and need companionship. A caregiver often reaches this conclusion when they see how intensely the cat constantly asks for play and attention. The decision to get a second cat—and later a third and another—seems simple and logical. The truth, however, is that physiologically a cat spends most of the day sleeping, usually during the time when we are at work, and when we return, they join in our life and ask for our company for our sake, not because there is no second cat in our home. A second cat will simply mean that now two will be asking for our attention :)

Before you consider another cat, please read this article to the end, weigh all the pros and cons, and make a truly wise decision, not one made under the impulse of having just seen a sweet kitten. My aim is not to discourage anyone from adding another cat as such (I myself have 10 cats and I know that it is possible to reconcile more than one in one’s home), I only want you to properly assess your chances for a successful introduction and to do everything possible to make life together easier for the cats.

Cats, unlike dogs, are not pack animals, they are not social animals. They are territorial animals, which means that every “newcomer” in our home will initially be nothing more than an intruder to them. The territorial instinct varies in strength from cat to cat; for some, their private space must be large and they are unable to accept anyone else in it, for others it may be limited to a windowsill cushion or our lap. Depending on the strength of this instinct, our cat will more easily or more difficultly come to terms with “the other one,” but it does not change the basic condition—a cat is a territorial animal and, apart from a few species such as the lion, does not live in organized communities. The arrival of another cat ALWAYS turns our pet’s world upside down.

What determines whether cats will accept each other? Unfortunately, there is no absolutely unequivocal answer to this question. Cats are slaves to scents; sometimes they are unable to accept a cat because it produces too few “friendly” pheromones, generally speaking it does not smell peaceful to the other cat. Of course, we have no influence over such matters. Many cats that were unable to accept the presence of other cats and were considered aggressors in fact had a seriously damaged or underdeveloped Jacobson’s organ, which normally contains receptors for feline pheromones. The lack of proper “decoding” of another cat’s scent arouses fear, and fear is always followed by aggressive behavior. Certainly, cats that run away and hide under sofas when guests come to us are a bad prognostic sign. A cat is not obliged to fawn over every stranger, but as a naturally curious animal, it usually at least comes to check who has arrived and what they have brought. If our guests know about the cat’s existence only from our assurances, this is a bad prognosis for adding another cat—unless our apartment is simply too poor even for that one cat; it may turn out that creating vertical space makes the cat gain confidence and accepting “the other one” becomes entirely realistic. I write more about organizing space, necessary even with one cat, in the section "A Cat-Friendly Home". 

How to prepare for adding another cat? What does the decision to bring in another cat entail?

First and foremost, before enlarging our feline family, let us consider whether we can manage financially. I refer you to the section “Costs of Keeping a Cat,” although assuming that those reading this section already have a cat, theoretically it should not be necessary. Of course, it is usually not the case that with a second cat maintenance costs double mathematically; it is not a 100% increase, but certainly around 70–80%. Litter consumption, vaccinations, or periodic tests are “fixed” expenses, and they simply double; no savings will occur here. With food it is generally not so; a second cat often reduces our losses by finishing what the first did not want to eat. However, one must take into account that sometimes this cost will double, or it may turn out that the new cat will be more expensive to maintain than the first (different food, different feeding method, some special diet). I will not elaborate on this; those interested are referred to “Costs of Keeping a Cat.”

The most important thing is to manage proper relationships between the cats. To ensure well-being for more than one cat, we must add a litter box for each additional cat. If the house or apartment is large, there should be more litter boxes than this mathematical ratio (this also applies when we have only one cat). If the house or apartment has multiple levels, each level is treated as a separate apartment, so again the number of litter boxes should increase. As for resting places, the number of attractive sleeping spots from the cat’s perspective should, in my opinion, be the number of cats multiplied by three, of course with some simplification, but there certainly must be significantly more than cats. This does not mean buying several scratching posts; it means providing or adapting additional beds, shelves, or already existing places within our furniture (tops of wardrobes or cabinets), preferably arranged into logical pathways along which a cat could move without touching the floor. These are absolutely basic matters; cats must have the possibility of psychologically separating themselves from one another and passing each other without collision in our home. Without this, we essentially have no chance for peaceful coexistence of two cats, and with more it is better to forget it immediately. I use the word “peaceful” deliberately; for many people the fact that their cats compete for places, chase each other and fight is not a problem as long as “no blood is shed.” I assure you that for cats, scuffles and constant rivalry already constitute a problem, and a very serious one, often ending in illness or depression. Of course, it delights us most to see them lying close together, but that is rather the exception than the rule, and often it does not testify to mutual love at all but to a preference for the same place and lack of a second equally attractive one. We will recognize this by the fact that one of the cats quite quickly leaves the shared bed. You can learn how to plan space in the aforementioned “Cat-Friendly Home”section.

Another element of cats’ shared life is feeding. Ideally, cats receive food on separate plates/bowls. One of the most serious mistakes when adding another cat—and later in organizing daily life with many cats—is the persistent pursuit of making the cats eat as close to each other as possible, which is considered proof that they “like each other.” Nothing could be more misleading; food is essential for life, and even cats in very bad relationships will announce a “ceasefire” for the time it takes to eat a favorite treat. This does not change the fact that eating in close proximity will be enormous stress for them—eating in tension, either too hastily or too briefly. Food bowls should be scattered in different rooms; in fact, this should also be the case with only one cat. The same applies to water dishes—there should be as many as possible, of different shapes and heights, in various places throughout the house/apartment. The greatest comfort for a cat is having its own separate space; this applies to rest and to food. We therefore absolutely do not strive for feeding at the smallest possible distance; this is by no means an indicator of good or bad relations between cats, but it can be a source of stress and frustration during meals. Many cats considered “picky” by their caregivers actually leave the bowl too quickly because they are irritated by the “breath on their back” of the companion munching right next to them. Thus they are doubly frustrated—not only upset by the conditions in the dining hall but also not fully satiated. Others start eating too quickly because of the same irritation, to end the unpleasant situation as soon as possible. Cats need their own spaces not only with respect to sleeping or elimination but also for eating—let us remember this! Dispersion of feeding areas greatly helps in the process of adding another cat.

However, the most important factor for success is the organization of space, the environmental enrichment; there is no escaping this. No pheromones, wonderful collars, and certainly not the much-hated by me and never recommended isolation consisting of locking cats in separate rooms with a schedule of slightly opening doors or carrying them in carriers can replace it. Expanding space is absolutely necessary to give adding another cat a chance to succeed. Cats must have the possibility of observing each other from safe places, without exposure to encounters only on the floor, where they must pass dangerously close, for example to reach food or the litter box. Without ensuring a sense of security, seriously disturbed by the appearance of a second cat, we do not have great chances for a successful introduction; locking cats separately, isolating them, opening and closing doors, or carrying them in carriers will not help. However long it lasts, cats will react badly to each other because they will constantly be under stress about losing their “possessions.” Of course, at first we separate spaces for the cats in the house, but we organize them so that according to their own clock they can observe each other and regulate distances. How to organize this and why it is so important to divide space in precisely this way, I describe a few paragraphs below.

Accepting the nature of the cat as it is is very important for their well-being. I know that cats are wonderful, that one usually does not end with just one; I know our hearts are extremely capacious. Feline hearts are not so capacious, and we must help them greatly to come to terms with other cats in our home. Having more cats means more duties for us, very pleasant duties, but we must remember that a second cat is no panacea for the first cat’s boredom. If you are ready for such challenges, that now more cats will wake you at dawn, that perhaps the patter of chasing paws will be louder than you imagined, then you are probably ready to enlarge your family by another cat.

Now the most important matter, namely cats’ play.

That our cat is bored may of course be true. I emphasize, however, that we are responsible for organizing our cats’ time—whether one, two, or three. A bored cat will naturally start playing at the expense of the other if it is stronger. I deliberately write “at the expense” because adult cats essentially do not play together; they cannot “pretend.” In physical contact there is always the temptation to “hunt,” which is enormous pleasure for the hunter and equally enormous stress for the hunted. Older kittens also cannot do this; their play can be brutal and I personally do not allow such tendencies even in youngsters. Most people think cats play like dogs, wrestling, rolling over. This is not true; dogs know it is “pretend,” they do not even clamp their jaws on each other, because as social animals they know the “rules of the game.” Cats are terribly serious creatures…

Adult cats do not play together, not in the sense we think. The only game adult cats know is hunting and catching prey. It is certainly fun, but only for the hunter. I know that in this respect my advice puts me in the minority; I know the myth persists about cats “sorting themselves out” and “establishing hierarchy,” but as the name suggests, it is only a myth— for many of our cats a source of harm and tolerance of suffering. We can speak of adult cats’ play as long as there is no physical contact between them. That is, one chases, the other runs; when the one being chased becomes frightened that perhaps it is not in jest, stops and turns around—if the chaser also stops, it is good; sometimes the cats switch roles, chase in the other direction, and again on such a signal stop—that is fine. If it ends with two or three such rounds, in open space, after which the cats separate, it is excellent. However, when the chaser does not stop, jumps on the one chased, pins them to the ground, then the area of play ends and a real test of strength begins. Biting, especially on the paws, is no longer play. At least not for the one being bitten. And it does not matter that “no blood is shed.” It IS aggression. Biting must not be allowed; biting is fun only for the one biting, and since it knows it moves on very thin ice, it is also a huge source of stress for it.

A cat plays only at hunting, which means play is great until one agrees to be the “victim.” It is a fleeting state, because, as I said, cats are terribly serious creatures, and the sound of a companion running behind very quickly triggers in the fleeing one a panic attack that perhaps this is serious. At some point the “victim” says: “Stop.” If the “predator” does not listen, we have a fight. Unfortunately it usually does not listen; it is so wound up by the great fun—for it. Every chase is a potential fight unless we control it. Unless we are lucky and both cats after two or three role swaps go their own way. Unfortunately that is rare; the hunting instinct in a cat is so strong that most often it is unable to interrupt what we behaviourists call the “hunting sequence” (stare ==>> stalk ==>> chase ==>> pounce ==>> „kill”, i.e., clamping jaws on the prey), and there is nothing wrong with that—it is simply feline nature. There are attentive cats who respect their boundaries and can stop the chase when the “victim” stops, but I repeat, these are very rare cases. We can help our cats by organizing the environment properly, providing tops of furniture, shelves, hanging cubbies acting like “intersections.” If the chased cat can jump somewhere, hide, etc., this often naturally “extinguishes” the chase and the play ends without physical scuffles. Shelves are better than enclosed cubbies, because if the chased one jumps into such a closed hiding place, the hunter may find it an excellent twist of the game and try to hunt “through the hole,” which for the blocked cat is huge stress.

Comparing this to our human world, it is like a game of tag: if we reach something and shout “Safe!”, the chaser should stop, may not catch us. Imagine they do not, catch you, pull you from your “safe place,” shout triumphantly that you are caught, even sit on you. What do you feel and how do you behave? For most cats hunting is so fun they do not hear the “Safe!” If the caregiver organizes cats’ play properly (play does not necessarily mean running; this is attractive in itself only to kittens), the “killing” instinct is satisfied and… we have a chance even for a moment of tenderness in the form of mutual grooming, after which the cats disperse to their “zones.” These are moments of closeness cats allow themselves, like coming to us for petting—some more, some less.

With multiple cats we should always have a wand toy, feathers, something that in case cats lose control allows us to redirect the predator’s attention and finish the “hunt” on the toy. We must remember that the cat needs the opportunity to catch and “kill” its prey; therefore a laser pointer is not suitable. When playing with a cat, we present a “physical,” real toy, something the cat can grasp with its teeth and “kill.” Guidebooks say that after such activity feeding must follow, but that is not true. The cat itself decides whether its hunting need is satisfied. Otherwise we feed, and the cat continues to play and hunt—the hunting instinct is independent of hunger!

Playing with more than one cat is an art. Cats usually follow the rule “who has the ball has priority.” In normal arrangements they alternate with the toy; first one plays with the feathers, the second or third watches; the toy must be moved away from the first and offered to the second; if it takes up play, the first “switches off” for a while, and so on alternately.

If there are animosities in the group, a cat that for some reason dislikes the other does not join such a chain; or becomes irritated that the other joins and does not participate. One must play with it separately or very skillfully with the group, preventing too close contact. Still somewhat separately. It is difficult because cats without reservations wait their turn then run in to take over, provoking irritation in the malcontent. It is important to move the toy from cat to cat. If feathers, lift them high beyond reach of paws and quickly transfer them. If the wand is high enough, cats will not instantly pursue; when they see feathers by another’s paws, for a moment the “ball rule” works. Grumpy cats irritated by others’ presence are best entertained alone; then they are happy and prance like kittens.

With kittens it is harder, because kittens rarely follow turn-taking—they dash everywhere and do not respect that the toy is currently with another cat, simply grabbing it. Two kittens of the same age are not a problem; but the common arrangement adult cat–kitten is a significant challenge. If there are two of us, we should manage :)

Tolerating incorrect behavior makes it entrenched, and later you write to me for help about sudden and unexpected changes in cats’ relations. In the vast majority of such letters it turned out the change was neither sudden nor unexpected; it was escalation of daily observed but ignored behaviors because “no blood was shed.” The truth is that once blood is shed, it is dramatic. We have a chance for change only until then. Even if it never happens, it is hard to see the connection between a cat living in constant tension—will the other bother me today?—and recurring unexplained health issues. Living in constant tension is the source of many ailments and problems, as I write in the section about stress and its consequences..

How to introduce another cat?

Many could present many scenarios—from “I let them loose and it was fine” to weeks of painstaking habituation. I believe one must be prepared for the most difficult scenario; if we are lucky and in the group where the introduction passed unnoticed, we will simply rejoice.

1. 1. Choose a time when the resident cat is in excellent health and mental condition. Do not introduce a new cat shortly after moving, major changes, childbirth, resident’s neutering, return from vacation, etc. Meeting another cat means meeting another bacterial flora and virus strains that each carries already “tamed.” For the other cat this set is entirely foreign—both that of the resident and that brought by the newcomer. Since meeting “the other” is always stress, followed quickly by lowered immunity, infections are easy; this does not mean either cat is ill. Usually blame falls on the newcomer. I would compare it to traveling to Egypt and drinking unboiled water: we get sick, sometimes severely, while locals use it daily and are healthy. Cats must acclimatize to each other’s microorganisms; therefore being in the best condition is vital. Strengthen immunity—start a week before planned introduction and continue a month after. The same applies to the new cat.

Do not rely on a vet merely “looking” at the resident! Perform full bloodwork, morphology, biochemistry with thyroid hormones—hyperthyroidism can ruin introduction plans. Urinalysis, abdominal ultrasound, thorough oral exam and tartar removal are absolute necessities. Undetected ailments and pain will provoke aversion to change and rejection of the second cat.

2. 2. Take several days off. Do not release the new cat “to fate” waiting for them to “sort it out”, as it is often advised. Initial hissing, puffing, growling are normal and not bad signs, but reinforcing them is dangerous. Usually first separate the cats so the newcomer can acclimate to part of the home and overcome stress. But complete separation behind closed doors should last literally one, maximum two days (unless the cat is very feral—in which case consider whether it should be introduced at all; in my opinion, it should not). Choose a cat with specific social competencies, responsive to humans. The process involves dividing the apartment into zones separated by wire-reinforced cat safety net—allowing safe observation and learning about each other’s movements and behavior. This is much more important than isolation. Observing behavior at the wire-reinforced cat safety net helps evaluate readiness for shared sessions. For very difficult cases, the wire-reinforced cat safety net can be partially covered, leaving small holes. After removing wire-reinforced cat safety net, if blocking, guarding litter box, ambushes, paw attacks occur, reinstall it. Dose contacts carefully; certainly separate when you are absent. But above all seek causes of the behaviours — these are usually environmental and resource deficits.

3. 3. Synthetic pheromones, e.g. Feliway, might help.

4. 4. Cardboard boxes are excellent aids. Place them open on top or upside-down with two or three openings and paw slits. Multiple openings prevent trapping. Slits encourage paw play without violence. Have several to prevent conflict over one resource.

5. 5. Devote much time to the resident. The new cat is like a new child; attention focuses there. But the resident’s routines must be maintained. The arrival overturns its orderly life; we must show life continues similarly, just with someone alongside.

6. 6. Do not transfer scents manually - do not stroke resident with the same hand that stroked newcomer. It is unnecessary and stressful. Dividing space with wire-reinforced cat safety net allows natural scent identification. By dividing the apartment into zones separated by wire-reinforced cat safety net, we enable the cat not only to become familiar with each other’s body language, way of moving, the sounds they make, and their style of play, but also to associate the scent with its source. WE DO NOTHING ON THE CAT’S BEHALF, because this is a source of additional, sometimes truly significant stress for them, something more than one caregiver has discovered after being scratched during such operations.

7. 7. Do not confine and carry cats in carriers for introductions - it is unnecessary when using wire-reinforced cat safety net, let alone a lot of cats find closing in the carriers extremely stressful.

How then to separate cats initially?

Never release them to “work it out.”Allocate zones separated by wire-reinforced cat safety net. Their behavior at the barrier tells much about introduction technique. If resident merely observes, one can relatively soon conduct very short supervised meetings, then separate again to rest and calm emotions (I emphasize “relatively”—not two or three days; only after adapting space and environmental enrichment!). Sometimes a large kennel enclosure helps as a “room within a room.” But such solutions are rarely needed; usually patient work at the wire-reinforced cat safety net suffices. There is no sense accelerating shared space until we observe calm approach, greetings, maybe rubbing attempts.

If controlled meetings end with attacks or hunting, return to wire-reinforced cat safety net and analyze why after a month progress is lacking. After a month we need not have fantastic harmony, but we should see clear improvement. If after a month there are no initial peaceful signals even at the wire-reinforced cat safety net, seriously reconsider the introduction.

Adding another cat is also hard for caregivers. We must consider our psychological resilience. The resident may withdraw, abandon rituals, stop sitting on laps, hiss even at a beloved human smelling of strangers. The rebuilding of security may take really long and caregivers may be unable to cope with the feeling of being rejected.

We must be aware the introduction MAY FAIL. Some cats never reconcile with another on their territory. Forced coexistence leads to vegetation in constant fear—like humans in an unhappy relationship—sadness, depression, illness. Such cases are rare; most cats learn to live in a group, some even form clear friendships. But do not force them under one roof if it is not for them.

I also add my small personal appeal:

Please always think very carefully before bringing a second, and doubly before each subsequent, cat into your home. Do not do it under friends’ persuasion that a second cat will solve boredom, that cats are wonderful; sometimes even veterinarians recommend a second “for company.” Veterinarians are not behaviourists; they generally know little about cat behaviour (unless they are also behaviourists, but such combinations are very rare), and I do not blame them—they are for other things. Breeders are not behaviourists simply by breeding. Nor does running a foster home or cat foundation make one a behaviourist. In short, owning cats does not make us experts in their nature; I learned this myself years ago. I am adept with computers, run and design my sites, but that does not make me a programmer. On forums or social groups often speak those who want to speak; this is no guarantee of value.

I cannot accept how many cats live in chronic stress due to pseudo-advice, because caregivers refuse to accept the truth about feline nature or lack access to knowledge. If no blood is shed, it must be fine. If they squeeze into one bed, easier to admire and speak of “cat love,” rather than provide a second spot and allow peaceful rest. If they do not growl, nothing is happening. Dozens of such replies are given to concerned caregivers, though every loving, empathetic person senses something is wrong.

Cats are usually silent in aggression and rivalry; when they become loud, it is already very bad. They do not use their full arsenal without being cornered; they know if they go too far, retaliation will come. During what is carelessly called “wrestling,” one cat has great fun, satisfying its need to hunt and “kill.” The other often has little or none. For the oppressed cat breaking this chain is very difficult; it cannot run—chase would ensue; cannot retaliate—being weaker/smaller/less assertive. So they hold each other in check; the bullied waits until it ends. If kitten, energy soon returns; desire to hunt grows stronger. It is training—for one day roles may reverse. Play is great pleasure for both if without physical contact, mutual alternating chasing without pouncing.

We must be honest with ourselves and our cats. If we get a second cat, we do it for ourselves—to have another, different one that perhaps gives what the first did not. And there is nothing wrong with that. We may have two or three; I have eleven. There is no wrestling; unacceptable to me. I must devote enormous time to allow instincts outlet; more cats means more tension and vigilance. I completely rebuilt my apartment; to keep so many cats and ensure conflict-free life has high price—I live in their home. My cats are no different; they too would like to “kill.” When I see Raya stretching and looking with that characteristic gaze, I know it is time to grab the wand. When I see Arabica yawn more than once, I know it is time to take out string and blanket—for her running is not attractive, but stalking disappearing string under the blanket—oh! Properly organized space and really rich environment do help when I lack time; cats run up the “tree” onto shelves and roam their domains.

I once also listened to breeders’ and random forum advice and allowed “working it out”; fortunately briefly, because feelings told me that round terrified eyes or tense crouched bodies could not be joy. Common sense did not allow me to see anything funny in wrestling between Clara and Borgia—mother and daughter, raised with love and devotion. Those were the only cats with whom I allowed “wrestling,” and they made me engage with cats beyond breeding; the sight was unbearable. Silent, no growling, later eating side by side. Like a marriage where one day the wife gets hit with a pot, the next they attend a party admired as harmonious. I wish no one such a relationship.

On the internet you will find many articles about cats. The truth is they are written by people of very different preparation, sometimes whose only experience is owning a cat. Behaviorism is my great passion; struggling with new puzzles from my or your cats gives me satisfaction. I constantly educate myself, as I have no patent on being right. But I have learned to approach advice from others whose education relies only on online courses and books, often outdated, with great reserve.

I understand many do not want to hear advice from those who truly observe and listen to cats and draw conclusions rather than force-fit cat behavior to dogs, because such advice is demanding, not soothing. It is easier to respond to “true play is play without contact” with “but mine like to roughhouse” and ignore feline life in fear and stress. Easier to drag cat to vets for unexplained illnesses, assuming it is sickly, instead of noticing lack of properly adapted environment, noticing that a beautiful empty apartment is only a source of constant fear—a place with nowhere to hide, climb, map territory—only tension. That would require dismantling the carefully designed interior plan meant to please us.

The most common phrase is “he/she isn’t stressed at all, behaves normally, eats.” Who of us shows how stressed we are? On what basis can someone without preparation determine stress in another and to what degree? Years ago waiting for a test result for suspected cancer, I thought I would die from fear. Every day I put on a smile, went to work, entered class, listened to students, smiled, told jokes. I am an introvert, I do not share problems; even my closest did not know about my waiting. Then home, smile number two for children because they wanted to say so many things that had happenned to them at school. Worst were nights curled in a ball, thoughts screaming until 4 a.m., then up at 6, smile number one for kids, number two for work.I was considered cheerful. For no one was I stressed. If we cannot see stress in another human, how can someone without experience see it in another creature with a completely different communication system if we are not trained?

I repeat—I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST MORE THAN ONE CAT AT HOME. The number of my own cats proves it. They are fantastic animals; I understand people cannot stop at one. I myself likely will not reach the stage of Vicky Halls, who says she now has only one cat for his well-being. But one cannot pretend there is no problem when there is. More cats mean more accommodations, often abandoning a favorite style. An apartment turned upside down, arranged not by our visions but cats’ requirements. Constant vigilance. Like siblings constantly competing for our attention and love. And assurances we love them equally will not help; they will want reassurance daily. If someone still does not understand why, imagine this exercise from family therapy:

"Imagine you have a wonderful husband (wife), you love him very much and he loves you. You live together happily. One day your husband (wife) says: ‘Darling, you are so wonderful, I love you so much, you are so perfect that I have decided to get myself another wife similar to you.’ The next day you return home, your husband is with the other, they laugh, then guests come to see the new one." The participants were to describe their feelings—I assure you they were not publishable without censorship.

Cats do not name their emotions, cannot trace sources or go to psychotherapy, but they feel emotions fully; emotionally they function like any mammal, including us. They fear loss, fear orderly life ending, fear someone taking favorite chair, rosette bed, shelf; fear losing place on our lap. Fortunately most eventually understand the lap remains, though not always at desired time, that life with the other is possible, that food is not lacking. The will to play always exists, and after some time they may discover the other can serve as a training bag—so why not?

I would not like to be anyone’s punching bag. And that is what I want for all cats—that none must ever be anyone’s punching bag. That each has its own rosette bed, can sleep stretched with legs extended and head hanging, without waiting who tires of squeezing first and leaves.

On the right there is an illustration in a nutshell. Once again I rebuilt the scratching post; by my armchair stood a small one with a rosette and shelf. It still stands. The rosette is beloved by Gatta, who accompanies me at work near my head. Vesper recently discovered the rosette, though two others hang on a pole beside my chair (a strategic location—there are four rosettes there). When I saw Vesper, head bowed peacefully for grooming in kitten posture, enter Gatta’s rosette, after humble permission to groom head and ears lie beside her—not as expression of maternal love but because neither is prone to radical conflict solutions—I screwed another rosette onto the pole above my head from another post where it was unused (not ideal location per cats). Since then there is no more mother-daughter cuddling in one circle; there are two sprawled, upside-down clones beside my head. Sometimes more, because closeness is key—everyone wants to be near me when I work. So the girls are arranged like a wreath around my head—in a cubby, on a cubby, in rosettes, and in a hammock above my head not visible in the photo.

And that is what I wish for everyone.

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Dorota Szadurska, COAPE Behaviourist and Supervisor
Graduate of Animal Psychology at Polish Academy of Scienceses
Member of The International Society of Animal Professionals.