“He was trying to find his footing in a world both familiar and foreign.”  ~ H.W. Brands

As I watched Echo leave the protection of his crate and slowly move into the big world of the Little Barn, I was amazed at the combination of slow, slinky movements ~ one paw out front first, then the second paw; ears alert and body close to the ground ~ and sudden dashes, streaks, really, of flying fur moving at top speed. The stacked hay and straw made a labyrinth of corners and nooks for a kitten to dart into or around, and the forlorn cries of his sister still in her crate followed him as he turned the corner out of her sight. 

Echo and Tiger’s freedom days were supposed to be the same. They both had their spay/neuter surgery six days ago, and while Echo thought he was ready to leave his crate within the first few hours of returning home, we kept him contained so he could heal.  Tiger, though, had some swelling at her incision site, which wasn’t overly concerning, but did require her to stay quiet and contained for several days longer.  She did not appreciate the explanation of this enforced confinement and amused herself by scaling the walls of her extra-large dog crate like a feline Spiderwoman.

I spent the afternoon in and out of the Little Barn, alternating between checking on Echo and watching the sheep.  Echo seemed to be having a great time ~ up the aisles he’d run, then back down them. Behind a gate he’d go, then he’d crawl back through the fencing. He ran through cobwebs, which left training strands of silk flying from his whiskers and his ears; he jumped into straw, which stuck straight up from his back; and when he’d gotten somewhere he didn’t recognize, he’d just howl.  It was a great day for Echo until he found the cat door in the barn wall, tumbled out and caught Steve’s eye. 

As wonderful as Steve is with John and me, he is still a feral male cat whose territory includes the Little Barn. As soon as this orange and white interloper fell out of the door, Steve’s eyes opened wide, then went to slits. His whole body seemed to grow several inches taller, then it all shrank into a panther-like crouch. He began to slowly move through the grass toward Echo, who immediately froze, then dashed into tall grass near the barn. Unfortunately, the grass was pressed against a fence with openings too small for him to get through. I didn’t have any need to see what would have happened had Steve reached him, so I stomped my feet right in front of Steve and said “Back!” in my best dog-training voice. He stopped, I repeated myself, and he slowly backed up. 

As soon as I picked up Echo, Steve ran to the big barn’s wall and sat there staring at us. I put Echo back into his crate for the night, turned out the barn lights, and spent a while with Steve, giving him belly rubs and sharing the evening.  I was so worried about what had happened that when I woke up at 2:30 in the morning, I spent several hours reading and developing a plan for moving forward, one that will hopefully result in peaceful co-existence between my two male cats.  I’ll definitely let everyone know how it turns out!