I had thought that Gonzo might have to be brought in early, because he had been getting a bit frisky. He's not the problem, though. Well, except that last night he figured out how to defeat my clever screen system and leap directly onto the loft railing, so I had to add another screen ... and then he defeated that within four hours, so I had to add yet another and now I can barely get downstairs.
No, Gonzo's not the problem. Daisy is. She just went into heat.
This has her wandering around the upstairs, chirruping and mirping and trying to woo a male. The only one available is Gonzo, who now runs away at her approach. (Shades of Pink Floyd's The Wall there, the fear of the mother and of being consumed by female sexuality.) The vet knows about him and suggested that I try to keep him away from her. I laughed wryly; I'm running out of room to separate cats!
But he's not interested in her anyway. No, he'd much rather try to mount his pre-sexual sister, the pervy pedo.
For now, I've worked out a separation scheme for when I can't be here to supervise them. The girls get the office, even though they like to sleep on my bed; the boy gets my bedroom, because he's clever enough to escape the office if left alone long enough. But I have to keep this up until Friday, December 22.
I'm never gonna make it.