The plan was to move Baxter into the spare room this weekend after Teasel had vacated it and I'd given it a good clean. Luckily, I'd been in with the hoover on Friday evening (Teasel was scared of the hoover so I'd only managed to brush it the whole time she was in there) because it was filthy weather that night and when I went out last thing to say goodnight to Baxter the rain was blowing in sideways and he was holed up in his little house, surrounded by puddles.
I felt so sorry for him that I grabbed a torch and a carrier and moved him straight into the spare room, and he certainly looks a lot happier reclining on the couch than he did huddled in his house!
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He's such a beautiful cat anyway, but he's looking a lot better than when he arrived. His coat felt thin and sort of greasy, but now it's thicker and getting a bit of a sheen to it. He's totally undisciplined and is too big to get away with the rough play he wants - if he grabs your hand and bites it hurts and is actually quite scary, but he's a really nice boy at heart and is already getting the message, bless him.
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I'm wondering what on earth he might have done to make someone think he deserved being driven to a strange area and thrown out of a car. There's just no fathoming some people.
Basil tried to follow me in there this morning, and Baxter seemed to want to make friends straightaway. Basil, however, had other ideas and hissed and growled at him before swiping at the crack in the door. Basil was the hardest of my gang to integrate, so that's no surprise, but I'm relieved Baxter took it so well. Hopefully the rest of the gang will be a bit more welcoming!
