Things are still a bit hectic with her. She and Goten are still at odds, but Goten at least, isn't doing his little "run and hide like a scard little girl" tactic, but will come out and hiss at her.
Chrissy's attitude is, "Okay, you're here. Don't expect me to be glad. Don't expect me to socialize with you. Don't go near my end of the couch. Don't sniff me. Don't look at me. Don't go near the litter box, if I'm within fifteen feet of it. Don't drink from the fountain if I'm even showing a remote bit of interest in it. Don't breath on me. Have a good day, oh yes, one other thing? If you want to make me happy, consider dropping dead. Nothing against you in particular, I hate everyone and everything.
New York is loud, but she's not quite as vocal as she was yesterday. She still cries for attention a lot. But, she's not trying to yell and eat at the same time, unless we try to talk to her while she's eating. Then, she snuffs up huge mouthfulls, turns, and begins talking, spraying bits of dry cat chow all over the kitchen floor.
She's at that stage between kitten and cat. She's got long legs and huge ears. She's not quite as graceful as a cat, she overshoots her leaps quite a bit. But, in true cat form, when she lands on the ground, she gathers herself quickly, and with a toss of her head and a few chirps, lets us know she meant to do that.
She smells faintly like cedar chips. I didn't notice it yesterday, yesterday, she smelled like rain and outside. We don't have anything cedar in the house, except for my hope chest, which is shut tight. I wonder if cedar is her natural scent? Chrissy smells faintly like a dusty blanket. Goten smells like someone took a furry stuffed animal away from a child, washed it, dried it, and just handed him back. That's the best way I know to describe his scent.
But New York is cedar. I love the smell of cedar. I hope she doesn't lose that scent when she gets older.
So far, I would say it's working out better than I might have expected. She's not very playful though. She's a loving little queen who likes to explore and hold court, talking as if she knows we all wait with baited breath for her every word, but flick a toy near her, and she's most likely to stare at it as if to say, "Nice try, but I am not amused."
I have a feeling she would find a large diamond, or perhaps a few emerald strung together a much better toy, much more worthy of her.
A little over 24 hours she's been in the house, and I swear, she's already forgotten she was in the rain, abandoned. I like that.