Does anyone have advice on how to get adult cats to get adjust to each other? A reader has two 17 year-old cats and recently added a 2 year-old to the mix. There’s fighting, but the worst part is the marking. Here are the details:
We have already tried letting the new guy have his own place upstairs, and only letting them interact when one of us was here. They kind of slink around each other at this point, sometimes growly and hissy, sometimes scrappy. New guy has been here almost 10 days. Starting Monday, we left the upstairs door open (upstairs is carpeted, down is not, so up is where the pee is and we have closed all but the new kid’s doors) and it looks like they sleep during the day (what else?) and get riled up when we get home from work and feed them. It appears as though they are all using ALL the litter boxes (4 of them, do I need more maybe?). When I get home and start scooping the 2 older ones follow me around so they can pee in the fresh litter. The younger one would too, I think, but that’s when the snarling and growling begins. The occasional scrap, fewer now, but sheesh, even the littermates (bro and sis) fight with each other now, which never happened before. Oh yes, one of the older ones has gone deaf, so yelling his name doesn’t get a reaction.
I’ve never introduced an adult to other adults – only kittens to adults already living here and that went smoothly. These two older ones are the last kittens we adopted since we had (before we adopted these two) 2 other cats, who lived to 25 (died of old age mostly) and 20 (renal failure, but lived 3 years after the initial diagnosis). Heh. I thought *I* was a crazy cat lady with 4! Indoor! Cats! until I read you.
Honestly, I had no advice to give her (aside from maybe giving Feliway a try).
If y’all have any good advice (or even just halfway good advice!), please leave it in the comments!
A few of you have asked what the story is with Steely Dan and Fagen. They were found in a storm drain with their feral mother. The boys were turned over to Challenger’s House, and their mother is going to a great cat haven in Florida.
I suspect that their mother very well might be a tortie – Miz Poo pushed her way into the foster room the other day when Fred and I were in there (the door wasn’t latched), and both boys went running over to her, chirped at her, and rubbed up against her. When we brought Tommy in, they weren’t interested in him at all. Yesterday I brought Miz Poo in again, and again they ran right over to her. Too bad she just smacked at them and went to check out the food. Heh.
So anyway, yesterday I went into the foster room, picked Steely Dan up off the cat tree (he resisted for a second, then gave in), and sat down in the chair with him in my lap. He purred and purred and purred while I petted him, and finally Fagen couldn’t stand it anymore, and had to jump up to see what was going on. I petted him too, but he didn’t stay long.
Steely Dan climbed onto the back of the chair, and I petted him a few times, then stopped.
And he climbed back down into my lap.