Now that 6 months have passed since the arrival of my fuzzy friends, I believe I can safely say we are all used to each other. Mija doesn't run when she's eating from the dishes in the hallway. I much step over her to pass. Pilchard clamors for my lap now, when I want to kill dragons or other mean baddies in World of Warcraft. "BBCOL" is a known acronym in my guild. Mija follows me every time I go into the kitchen, for any reason. She knows how to push the buttons to get kitty treats. I don't know what I'll do when I run out of these. We have, probably, a month left at the present rate of consumption. They both come and go from the basement. They sort of come when called, but these are cats so coming to me when I call, "I'm home!" is usually at their discretion.
Which leads to the big thing they have learned, tone of voice.
I love to pick them up and give them a cuddle when I get home from work. It feels as if all is right with the world to give a cat a hug, an ear scratch and he receive a purr in return. So I call out that I'm home and, if they come to the living room, will tell them I missed them and want a cuddle.
They know. They just know. "Oh good grief," their minds are thinking. "It's that high pitched voice. She wants to pick me up. RUN!"
Mija will take off into the back of the house. Pilchard goes
into the northeast corner of the house behind these two pedestals on which sit plants. She has learned I can't get her there. It is kind of funny. We do a light "chase" where I'll come after them a few steps. They run away but they will stop and turn around to look at me as if to say, "Um...come on mom."
I get my cuddles later via the "ambush and scoop" method.
Beverage: Huckleberry tea