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Milla and I just returned from visiting Alicia, her cats, and her roommate's cat in Sacramento for the weekend. It was my fifth round trip over the past few weeks and Milla's second.
Milla seems to have mostly readjusted to being around the other cats again, but she still growls a bit when they play and she and Muppet—the oldest of the three cats in Sacramento, the mother of one of them, and a milk-provider for both the other one and Milla—have still not accepted each other the way the kittens all seem to have accepted each other. Both last weekend and early this weekend, Muppet seemed curious about and accepting of Milla, but after Alicia and I took Huggel—Muppet's son and the youngest and smallest of the three kittens—to Capitol Park, Muppet started growling at and swatting the poor little boy and mostly keeping her distance from all of the kittens, so I do not know if she and Milla would have grown closer otherwise.
Milla seems fine with short local drives, but she seems to hate long drives. She has cried or whined or yelled or otherwise launched disapproval from her mouth for nearly the entire length of each of her four journeys with me between Santa Clara and Sacramento.
I have learned that on long drives, to prevent Milla from climbing on or under or between absolutely everything, I must restrict her to a pet carrier and that it must be a hard one with bars, not her soft one with zippers, which she escapes easily. I tried once and only once to make the trip with neither sort of pet carrier, hoping she would simply curl up and sleep in her bed when I left on short notice late on Thursday night and had neither on hand, but before we even reached Sacramento, I stopped at a 24-hour Wal-Mart and bought a hard plastic pet carrier with bars to keep Milla contained where she could not endanger our safety.
I don't know how Emrie made it from Sacramento to Richmond with all of the kittens and adult cats in the first place. Chloroform?
