The Early Days
Snowcone spent his first few months with me under the bed in the guest room. This was in no small part due to Floyd's reaction. My tuxedo cat-in-residence was outraged at this new addition to our home, not pleased - to my surprise - to have company. This may betray a fundamental lack of understanding on my part of the feline spirit. Floyd was too portly to wedge himself under the bed in the guest room, so Snow retreated there. After the first few weeks, the vet suggested leaving the guest room door open during the day so that they could eventually make their peace. When I got home at night, I'd close the door and sit on the bed and Snow would come out to be petted. He was very cautious and would immediately retreat at a sudden movement or - God forbid - a sneeze. This was a reaction he shared with Floyd. In the 15 years I had that cat, he never failed to react to my sneezes as if they were precursors to another, potentially dangerous, eruption. What that was, exactly, I never knew. They also shared a fear of ceiling fans. But I digress. I eventually got into the habit of lying down on the floor next to the bed in the guest room at the end of the day and filling Snowcone in on the hills and valleys of my work day. I had done something similar when there was an injured bird in my yard some years ago. After putting out water and bread crumbs, I would sit by the window during his recovery and fill him (or her) in on my day. I suspect that in both cases, the realization that I was not going to stop talking stirred them to leave their hiding places. Perhaps they found my accounts too mundane. In any event, my new bird friend recovered enough to take flight. And Snowcone eventually emerged from under the bed, able to elude Floyd until they reached some kind of truce.