Some final thoughts on weekend cat-sitting.
Despite the headway I thought I'd made Friday evening with Miss V (the "V" is for "Valentina"), I never saw her again. Not of her own volition, that is. She remained firmly planted under her mistress' bed during my visits Saturday and Sunday. I let her be, but I did get on hands and knees to ensure I could see she was there and alive. Of course, her food plate was my best clue.
Karen, her mistress, stopped by to pick up her key and asked me how things went. I told her all I'd reported here about Miss V's activities (or lack, thereof). I was warmly thanked.
I learned that Miss V left a prezzy for Karen's boyfriend on his bathroom rug. I never looked in there, so I don't know when it was left. Miss V was obviously not a happy camper with the household situation. She did come out for Karen and allowed herself to be stroked for a short while...and then it was back under the bed.
Karen acknowledges there is mutual loathing between Miss V and "Tom", the boyfriend. Oh, well.
