Ghost is integrating nicely.
He’s already more than half the size of the standard American shorthairs (and one longhair), with bobcat cheeks filling in and his fur looking decidedly less rumpled as the guard hairs fill in some of the empty space. He gets along best with the other two Maine Coons, who both have a familiar approach to interacting with him. Wraith acts like the big brother, making sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble (or helping him get into it at times), while Fen is a bit more like a mothering figure. The other cats are, in turn, terrified of his mad ninja skills, or unconvinced that he really wants to be a friend. For the record, the ninja attacks on the two cats that receive them the most often are more than well-deserved.
Because of the situation and number of cats, he still sleeps in a cage at night, although we’re slowly letting him try to stay out. The problem is he wants to play if anyone is awake so, until the other humans are gone next week, I’ll wait to work on getting him to understand that sleeping times is sleeping time. He’s a quick learner — has learned “up”, “down” and “come” with the help of treat incentives, which have started diminishing in frequency, and he’d learned which door thresholds are not to be crossed (e.g., open patio doors and the door to the basement). With everyone gone, I’ll probably introduce him to the basement next week now that we’re mostly understanding that electrical wires are not chew toys.
He loves training and purrs up a storm whenever we have our short little training sessions. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt with the treats, but he’s generally a happy little dude and interested in pleasing people.
It’s been gruesomely hot in Minnesota lately by the time I’m done with work (or forest fire haze reaching unsafe breathing levels), which has killed any outdoor adventures he and I might have, so there is a bit of a bummer there. And I have yet to harness him anyway, let alone leash (maybe next week).
So far, his personality alone has made him worth his weight in gold — he’s a real Casanova with the humans and the cats — always happy and looking to get the odd, casual display of affection before running off to create mischief.