So much housekeeping to deal with in an emergency. Laura went with aunt Janice. Money comes and goes in the bank. "Just board the cat," I advised. "Toby likes it there."
"But how much!?" asked my sister.
"Eight or ten a day."
"We'll work it out at home!"
And so Toby took up temporary accomodation in
Jake 's home, in the basement. Door closed.
Jake is a year old Cairn terrier, full of himself. There have been innumerable encounters over the last year! Toby has learned confidence. Jake has learned to jump higher and higher, and bark--well, you know Cairns.
Tom put cushions on high basement places, made a playground, takes care of Toby's food and box; even goes down to play. Jake knew the cat was afoot, and not invisible. He kenneled up the first night, but did not sleep. The next morning he hoovered up all the evidence Toby spent the night upstairs. Jake was awake two solid days.
Toby, meanwhile, expanded his "upstairs privileges. He called at the basement door earlier and earlier. He slept in every piece of furniture; with every person. Jake knew real trouble loomed. Soon his bed time would be noon.
Actually, Jan took pity. Toby grew up with dogs, and worked into the heart of cat, dog, person alike. Although he wasn't about to set Jake straight, he could wait for Jake to get it. So, for several evenings,
Jake sits by Jan on short leash and high alert, watching a cat make itself at home. He's quit the incessant barking. Jan's almost ready to invite Toby up for a formal introduction.