I've introduced you all to Fiona before; she's the cantankerous resident of my sister's garage. Usually when her humans are out of town I'll look after her, but with the severe cold weather we've had lately, Sharon was worried, so I suggested we set the old girl up in my basement. I've got this big netted tent, about fourteen square feet, that fit her bedding, with a litter box on one end and food dishes on the other.
Of course it's impossible to keep secrets in this house, so it wasn't long after settling her in that the others began to investigate. Betsy is the only one who spends any time in my office, so naturally she took the most interest.
But the others weren't as curious as we thought they'd be, hence the lack of any more interaction photos. Legs sniffed around, got hissed at and probably figured he didn't need any more of that, and Molly made an obligatory stop on her way to the litterbox. Clark stalked around a bit, not sure quite what to make of it all. I love the way they walk, real slow, with stretched out motions, in an arc about three feet from the tent. Fiona, for her part, just crouches on her blanket, front paws curled under her, watching the parade.