Patches pissed all over Nick’s new lily-white futon matress yesterday. Somehow it soaked through the matress and even reached the bottom. He’s been inconsistently incontinent the last week and threw up twice over the weekend. I’m bringing him to the vet for a check up to make sure it’s not a bladder infection or sickness. I hope it’s something health related, as opposed to a mental problem, such as fear or nervousness with Dolly running around. That way it can be fixed, whereas a mental problem is much more difficult to cure. Dolly is still attacking him, half playfully and half forcefully, but Patches doesn’t like any of it. He’ll sleep on my bed for protection at night, usually on my ankles but sometimes on my pillow.

Dolly has lately been sleeping under the rugs. Nick and I will think that she’s missing until we see a large lump in the living room rug. It’s pretty frustrating because every time I straighten it out, she’ll just dig underneath it and mess it all up again.

One thing that she’s been doing for a while is sleeping on things to mark them. Every time someone brings a bag or jacket into my room, the first thing she’ll do is sniff it out then sleep on it, which I personally see as a viable alternative to urination.

Aaron brought Patches over Monday night, and he’s been staying under my bed for most of the time. The tent that he has is sort of his security blanket; he’ll hide in there whenever he wants to be alone. Dolores is a little wary of his presence, and she’ll follow him just to keep track of where he is most of the time. So far, it’s just a few hisses and growls, since Dolly seems to want to test Patches with challenges, while Patches just groans. Sometimes it sounds like stock cars making a turn at Daytona when they growl out of sync.

The best weather of the year has finally arrived. The coolness of the autumn is in the air, along with the grey-washed skies that mark this time of year. The odious summer has left, and I can wear my turtlenecks and sweaters. Dolly can now resume her perch at my A/C free sill, and I can open up my window to let the freshness of the air inside. I miss the brilliant white winter, but still find myself wishing that this weather would last forever.

Dolores is now comfortable enough with me to completely fall asleep in my stomach. Not just any “closed-eyes-but-startled-at-any-slight-sound” asleep but “completely-twisting-over-belly-up-loss-of-all-senses” passing out. I find it interesting that she still has the ability to purr the entire time she’s on my stomach, but has no reflexes at all. I can touch the pads of her back paws or poke her belly and there’ll be no reaction. I can put her favourite treat in front of her nose, and she won’t even look at it. My theory is that purring is a very subconscious activity that cats may not be able to control.