Quincy is now about the same size and weight as 19-year old Greta, which isn’t a good thing when he is feeling naughty. (Which is often these last few days.) Greta is deaf and cranky, and doesn’t want to be in the same room as the feisty whippersnaper. This has earned young Quincy some timeouts until he gives up his quest to annoy poor Greta.
Of course, every time I went in the bathroom to check on him, he was a bundle of purr-y love. Almost seemed to overdo it, if you know what I mean. (So darn cute!)
On the other hand, Quincy adores Barnie. The two of them thunder through the house, playing, chasing, making as much noise as the dogs. Down the hall, up the climbing post, diving under beds. They keep busy. They also cuddle up together, but not usually too close, just “near” each other.
Barnie loves his chair and cushion. Notsomuch when there just isn’t much room to have extra personal space.