What a spoiled little boy! Binks only wants about 90% of my time. He follows me around. He wants to be in my lap. When he's not in my lap he's rolling around on his back to have his tummy rubbed. He's on the bathroom sink when I try to wash my hands or brush my teeth. In fact, he curled up in the sink for a nap once or twice, but not since my husband turned the water on on him. And in the 10% of my time that he's not crying for attention, he's sneaking onto the counter, the stove, the table, or in the kitchen sink! "That is not the place for kitties," I say, and squirt him with the spray bottle.
Ophelia is opening up. She doesn't run away every time we approach. She comes around for the occasional petting and lap sitting. She took a nap on my napping husband once, and she has started to chase Binks back when he takes a swipe at her.
They all sound much better than they did when they got here. No longer choking up phlem, there is only the occasional coughing fit. They're also spending less time sleeping. This morning I entertained Binks and Ophelia with a bit of string. It doesn't matter how old a cat is. They all love string... and those little shiny plastic pom-pom things. Ophelia was carrying one around yesterday. So cute!
And where is Bootz in all this? Bootz has developed an affinity for squashing himself underneath the futon couch. He also enjoys sleeping on the back of the couch, on my husband's chair, and in Ophelia's old hiding spot behind the bathroom door on the landing.