And now we are four (fucking finally! maybe?)

It's become clear, over the past couple of weeks, that Edgar is no longer the cat that lives in the basement/outdoors. He is now part of the household, even though he is still skittish and Parker will kick his ass given any opportunity.

Edgar is frequently near the door waiting for me when I come home, and not in the ohgawdletmeoutofhere kind of way, but rather the squee! food! kind of way.

And when I noticed that, I stopped delivering food to him in the evenings (I am not entirely heartless - breakfast is still delivered to the basement). Instead, I poured two dishes upstairs, one on the counter, one on the floor, and plunked him on the counter to eat his dinner, while the other two did their usual business (eat, barf) on the kitchen floor.

This cruelty/training (of him or me, I remain undecided) has resulted in a cat that now hangs out upstairs of his own volition.

It has been delightful to see him jump up onto the sofa in front of the living room window to stretch out and supervise the pedestrians outside in the cold. And it's been even more delightful to watch him wander over to the other sofa, where I am sitting, to see him cuddle down by my side, occasionally with Scout only a few inches away.

Then, there was last night. Edgar followed me to bed. I am not a fool, so I shut the door on Parker, so that Scout, Edgar and I could cuddle. That worked for about ten minutes, and then Parker started scratching at the door. That was the end of that.

Tonight, I was having my pre-shower pee, with Scout in the bathroom with me, as is our habit, and a wee nose poked through the door. I nearly shut it, thinking it was Parker (he really is that much of a shit-disturber), when I realized it was Edgar. Edgar wanted to hang out with us, in the bathroom. I feel rotten for attempting to shut him out, but he wasn't having anything to do with me, after that. Fair enough.

Two days, two milestones. Edgar has lived here for 19 months. It's been a long time coming.