The cats are only in mild revolt. They expected wet cat food at night, which they know they only get in the morning. And the orange cat is throwing things on the ground.
The new kitty (which the Butcher insists he’s going to call her, even though I had to name her something on Monday, so Pumpkin it is) was sleeping happily on the Butcher’s bed and I was visiting with her when Mrs. Wigglebottom came barging in because it is against her religion to not be where something interesting might be happening. (I don’t know for sure what religion that is, but a lot of dogs seem to belong to it.)
Mrs. W. stood at the door, sort of confused. Then she came in and began to sniff eagerly at the new kitty’s things. And then she began to sniff at the new kitty, who was like “Oh HELL no!” (which was also the shape of her body). New kitty smacked Mrs. W. on the nose and hissed at her. This, of course, is about 150 times more attention than she normally gets from any cat so she was so excited, like “OMG!!! A playmate!!!!” while the new kitty took the opportunity to lumber off the bed and hide under the headboard.
So, I don’t know. I feel like it’s going pretty well.
The new kitty seems okay. A little stiff, but friendly and sleepy.
It tickles me that the Butcher has moved the new kitty into his room. I should have guessed that he would take her welfare to heart.