31 hours in

I crated Babs last night before I went to bed. I thought it would be best, since she is unfamiliar with the apartment and I wasn't sure how she would do just roaming around at night. This morning when I got up (at 5 AM!), it was tough trying to coax her out of the crate. In fact, 15 minutes of trying and I decided that I would just pull her out. She was responsive after that and we took a little walk in the morning air.

She did her business, which I was quite happy about, and then we came back inside. She was hungry after that, and ate quite a bit of the food I had put out for her the night before. I had mixed the food I bought for her and the food from her former home (some expensive vet brand) and oddly enough, she left the kernels of food from the vet brand and ate my stuff. Nice.

I decided to gate her up in my bathroom, as I didn't want to leave her in her crate for a full 10 hours. I left the litter pan in there, as well as her food and water dish. When I left, she was on her hind legs at the gate. I felt so guilty leaving her. I now know what pet owners mean when they say they feel bad about leaving their animals. I can't imagine how parents feel when they leave their child for the first time. Heartbreaking.

My brother came by around 10:30 to check on her. He phoned me and reported that she was at the gate when he came in, but ran to her crate when he neared her. She wouldn't come out. Poor thing.

It's also odd but today is the first time I've ever rushed home and not felt hard-done by. I wanted to go home to see her. It was weird. When I had the cats, I dreaded going home. I would stay at work late just to avoid it. When I had Teddy, I rushed home because it was my obligation. For the first time, I went home not just to my cozy couch, but to a couch companion. It was kind of nice.

And then I got home. She was at the gate when I walked in the front door, but she was in her crate and cowering as far back as she could get when I went to see her. The good news was that I think she actually used the litter pan, so that's promising. But the problem was, I couldn't coax her out of the crate. In fact, she growled at me again when I tried to pull her out. I decided I would just do as I did when I first got her home and ignored her. Within 15 minutes, she was prancing into the living room.

I've decided to start on training her as she seems very eager to please. And I've also decided to re-name her, despite my initial hesitation. Her name is no longer Babette. Her name is now Luna, an homage to Jason Mraz, Harry Potter and my star sign. How appropriate is that?