#bruvs — Public Fediverse posts

Çaturday George: Best and Bravest

Charlie has been gone 7 weeks, and several people have asked how George is doing without his brother. Simply: he’s managing. He’s eating. He’s sleeping with us at night. He is still deeply unsettled.

For the first week or two he would go out as usual, only instead of following his normal routes he would sit in places where Charlie used to sit, and wait. And look puzzled. And come in and out, in and out of the house, meowing, telling us, over and again, that something was wrong, he couldn’t find his brother. He would see the single food plate and just…yowl. It was heartbreaking for all of us.

Then for about a week he spent most of his time under the bed. He ate, but not much—just enough so that we didn’t think he was going to starve (cats can starve in surprisingly short order) and so didn’t need to take him to the vet. He wouldn’t spend time with us. He—like me—was miserable, perhaps close to depression.

For the week or so after that his routines were in flux, but for the last two weeks they’ve begun to coalesce around a different set of parameters—he eats less often but larger amounts; he won’t go outside until after 10:00 am and sometimes not until after noon; he sits on different fences, and has assumed different watch posts; he is sticking much closer to home.

He’s still very skittish. Sudden movements or loud noises from either of us send him flying. At first that was far under the bed where no one could reach him; lately, just out of the room and poised to flee farther; on very brave days just jumping then freezing, then cautiously reapproaching. He’s getting there but it’s a slow road. He relied on his brother to be the one to investigate, engage with, and certify-as-safe All The New Things. My heart aches for how brave he has to be now, every day.

But he is brave. Our Best and Bravest. And meanwhile, he has started to sit close to me on the sofa again—all while pretending not to.

He’s finding his way back. And so are we. Which means from this point all my kitty posts will be forward- and now-focused, looking to the future and enjoying the present.

Çaturday George: Best and Bravest

Charlie has been gone 7 weeks, and several people have asked how George is doing without his brother. Simply: he’s managing. He’s eating. He’s sleeping with us at night. He is still deeply unsettled.

For the first week or two he would go out as usual, only instead of following his normal routes he would sit in places where Charlie used to sit, and wait. And look puzzled. And come in and out, in and out of the house, meowing, telling us, over and again, that something was wrong, he couldn’t find his brother. He would see the single food plate and just…yowl. It was heartbreaking for all of us.

Then for about a week he spent most of his time under the bed. He ate, but not much—just enough so that we didn’t think he was going to starve (cats can starve in surprisingly short order) and so didn’t need to take him to the vet. He wouldn’t spend time with us. He—like me—was miserable, perhaps close to depression.

For the week or so after that his routines were in flux, but for the last two weeks they’ve begun to coalesce around a different set of parameters—he eats less often but larger amounts; he won’t go outside until after 10:00 am and sometimes not until after noon; he sits on different fences, and has assumed different watch posts; he is sticking much closer to home.

He’s still very skittish. Sudden movements or loud noises from either of us send him flying. At first that was far under the bed where no one could reach him; lately, just out of the room and poised to flee farther; on very brave days just jumping then freezing, then cautiously reapproaching. He’s getting there but it’s a slow road. He relied on his brother to be the one to investigate, engage with, and certify-as-safe All The New Things. My heart aches for how brave he has to be now, every day.

But he is brave. Our Best and Bravest. And meanwhile, he has started to sit close to me on the sofa again—all while pretending not to.

He’s finding his way back. And so are we. Which means from this point all my kitty posts will be forward- and now-focused, looking to the future and enjoying the present.

Çaturday George: Best and Bravest

Charlie has been gone 7 weeks, and several people have asked how George is doing without his brother. Simply: he’s managing. He’s eating. He’s sleeping with us at night. He is still deeply unsettled.

For the first week or two he would go out as usual, only instead of following his normal routes he would sit in places where Charlie used to sit, and wait. And look puzzled. And come in and out, in and out of the house, meowing, telling us, over and again, that something was wrong, he couldn’t find his brother. He would see the single food plate and just…yowl. It was heartbreaking for all of us.

Then for about a week he spent most of his time under the bed. He ate, but not much—just enough so that we didn’t think he was going to starve (cats can starve in surprisingly short order) and so didn’t need to take him to the vet. He wouldn’t spend time with us. He—like me—was miserable, perhaps close to depression.

For the week or so after that his routines were in flux, but for the last two weeks they’ve begun to coalesce around a different set of parameters—he eats less often but larger amounts; he won’t go outside until after 10:00 am and sometimes not until after noon; he sits on different fences, and has assumed different watch posts; he is sticking much closer to home.

He’s still very skittish. Sudden movements or loud noises from either of us send him flying. At first that was far under the bed where no one could reach him; lately, just out of the room and poised to flee farther; on very brave days just jumping then freezing, then cautiously reapproaching. He’s getting there but it’s a slow road. He relied on his brother to be the one to investigate, engage with, and certify-as-safe All The New Things. My heart aches for how brave he has to be now, every day.

But he is brave. Our Best and Bravest. And meanwhile, he has started to sit close to me on the sofa again—all while pretending not to.

He’s finding his way back. And so are we. Which means from this point all my kitty posts will be forward- and now-focused, looking to the future and enjoying the present.