Pella windows & doors of whitehall

I apologise for the length, there's a lot of detail - TLDR at the end.
I recently travelled to York for a 1 week stay in a self catering apartment, to celebrate a milestone birthday. I took my dad who's in his mid 70's, and has recently had a kidney removed, which has put him on the 'extremely vulnerable' list. He's eligible for additional treatment if he contracts Covid.
 
We paid £1078 for the week, which included a £30 booking fee, and a £10 'damage waiver'.
 
The property was marketed as "we pride ourselves on high quality, not just with our properties but with our entire service. COMPANY handpicks only the best properties and all our accommodation is furnished to the highest standards as you would expect in a leading top hotel."
"We continue to take great pride in maintaining the highest standards of cleanliness across all our properties."
 
Few minor issues that we noticed when we arrived - cups/plates were dirty. We ran a set through the dishwasher. Washing machine was filthy, dirty drum, and very mouldy detergent drawer - I put the drawer in the sink to soak while we went out for dinner.
 
Now the BIG issue - when we returned from dinner and started unpacking and getting ready for bed, I noticed a strong smell of damp in my room, and bathroom. I looked around for the source, and opened some wooden shutters that were concealing the windows.
 
MASSIVE quantitites of black mould on all the windows. It wasn't a few days/weeks worth, this was months and months of mould growth. It was in my room, the en-suite bathroom, my dads room, kitchen and living room.
 
We felt incredibly uncomfortable staying there for a night, let alone a week, given the health risks, particularly to my dad!
 
First thing Saturday morning I went to the office of the rental company, conveniently, just across the road, a 30 second walk from the flat! (Who knows what the rest of their properties are like if one across the road is this bad!) The staff were shocked, very apologetic, and said they'd sort something out.
 
An hour later they called, offering to clean the mould - I said that I know black mould is not something that can be cleaned quickly or easily. They agreed (why did they even suggest it?!) and offered alternative properties. These alternatives weren't suitable AT ALL. The one we chose was in a very central location to make it easy for my dad to get around. We suggested a property that was almost next door, but more expensive. They said we'd have to pay the difference, and wouldn't offer ANY discount for the inconvenience - mean, given the circumstances, but OK.
 
The back and forth discussing this took several hours, depriving us of most of the day. Eventually with them unwilling to budge at all, I attempted to compromise - we'd accept the 'most suitable', of the unsuitable properties, but we wanted:
 

1. The difference that we paid, back (new property was cheaper),
2. A 10% discount on the new property rate (seemed fair to me, given the issue, massive inconvenience we were going through, and for effectively losing a day of our holiday
3. A refund for the night we spent in the mould infested flat, given the condition and risk to health

 
I understand I was perhaps pushing my luck, but they were completely unwilling to move even an inch beyond request 1.
I refused to give them any more money and said I'd like a refund, for the remaining nights (all they were offering), and that I'd rather drive 250 miles home than see them "win".
 
We left, and found a hotel, not wanting to waste the week.
 
 
TLDR - My question:
We paid - £1078 (inc £30 booking fee and £10 damage waiver)
Refunded - £890.31
Outstanding - £187.69
 
Should we be/are we entitled to have the remaining (or any of) £187.69 refunded? And if so, how do we go about doing it?
 
The property was booked in my dads name. We both took out a 1 week travel insurance policy.
 
Many thanks for reading through my long and I'm sure, boring, saga!

I am running an HP Thin client environment managed by HP Device Manager. Each thin client has FreeRDP. This is used to connect to a hyper-v windows desktop using an RDS.Gateway.
I’m using apple AirPods that connect via Bluetooth to my ThinClient.
ISSUE: when I remote into any of my Hyper-V Windows 10 desktops I cannot get audio in or out to work: HP ThinClient T540 ThinClient 7.2 SP 14 FreeRDP version 2.10
These are ThinOS Ubuntu machines using FreeRDP to remote into a Windows 10 Hyper-V Desktop, & im failing to see the shared drives, printers & storage redirects, & the most important is that Audio In / Out is not working when my AirPods are connected to my ThinCliebt Via BlueTooth I get sound through the AirPods on the ThinClient, but through the FreeRDP to the windows HyperV desktop running Windows 10, they don’t work. I’ve enabled it to be allowed on the Hyper-V Desktop.
Can anyone help me get audio in or out to work? Any help will be greatly appreciated!!

Just a curious question since the game i feel is in a severe state at the moment with zero sign of improvement. I typically don’t enjoy the game and everything feels like a choir.
What I do like about the game:
• I can play it on my phone • Something to do • Getting exceptional items which make my bag glow • Class distinction and play styles • Graphics • Damage crits and streaks • Music • Sounds • Class Change • Fishing
What I don’t like about the game:
• Zero Customer Support • No Community Representatives • Bug filled releases and bugs which have been ignored for months • A lack of accountability and acknowledgment of issues in the game • Extreme Monetisation • Battlegrounds - Matchmaking - Bugs - Latency - Attacker massive disadvantage - Queue system • Deeds of Valor - traps you into playing or you will fall ridiculously behind a minimum of 9 weeks. • Set item grind • loop farming • upgrade materials • Rng is not truly Rng • too many daily grinds
Reasons it’s difficult for me:
For me personally it’s because I have spent money on it (circa €1k from June - January) and I genuinely had a hope until recently that things in the game would improve over time but in fact it’s quite the opposite.
I have zero problem is spending money on hobbies and things you enjoy and that varies person to person. For some it’s a lot of money to spend on gaming for others its not. I spent circa €2.5k on my PS5 and set up and honestly I just play Fortnite on that at the moment.
I’m addicted and play to maintain my character competitively which is insane since PvP is this game is not skill based. The windows to make skilled based decisions that are impactful to the outcome of the battleground are few. Anyways these are my thoughts is anyone else in a similar boat or feel the same about the state of the game?
I would love to find an enjoyable MMORPG outside of the Blizzard ecosystem as I for the last 20 years have been in it from Warcraft, StarCraft, Diablo 2 & 3, WoW various expansions and returned for classic to Hearthstone and because of those sentiments ended up on Diablo Immortal.

I’m having a strange issue with the central locking in my 2008 IS250.
Whenever someone in a passenger seat tries to open their door from the inside the doors do not automatically open. They either need to to open the lock first or I press the button on the drivers door. I do not face this issue when opening the drivers door from the inside.
Is there a system similar to the electric windows where you need to register the central locking after the battery is disconnected for a while?
The door locking mechanisms work fine with with both the key and the lock button on the drivers door. Only not when pulling the handle on the inside from any 3 of the passenger doors.
I tried some reset techniques I found online, but none have solved this issue.
Can anyone suggest something to try and fix this? I would prefer not to bring the car to a deal for something which seems like an easy fix

(If you disagree with any of these, just leave a comment and don't downvote. I hate when people do that. I'd much rather be told "hey this isn't a good tip", then a downvote that doesn't address the issue. One thing I hate about reddit.)
There's a lot of people getting accepted and thought it would help them realize what grad school is like financially. Also, I'm just curious. (Keep in mind, it might change by your major)
University of Toledo
Stipend: $23k/year
Retirement plan: Yes
Rent: 1Bedroom Apartment $700/month
Electric: (Electric heating) $60-$140/month. Also, electricity can be a scam here in toledo. I had a person knock on my door saying they worked for the electric company (they said the name of the company and dressed like they did) and they needed to correct something on my bill. Long story short, I was stupid/busy, they transfered my account to their company, and after they left I realized my rates would have tripled and luckily I was able to fix it before the damage was done. A week later another guy came and I almost wanted to call the cops on him. Another thing, I got a letter saying that back in November 2000 some committee voted on something and my supplier was going to switch to a different company. My current rate is like 0.02 cents/kilowatt or something and that letter said it was going to go to $0.06/kilowatt. Pretty much my bill would have doubled because a committee voted for something when I was 2 years old. Just, check your email and if something feels off, it probably is.
Internet: (AT&T 25mbps) $4/month because of ACP benefit (Thanks Biden)
General Fees/University Fees: about $700/semester; don't know what summer is yet; parking permit for year $250; my parent's job provide me healthcare but here's the link
Textbooks: ..... learn how to use the internet lol. Books are expensive. If you have to buy, rent or buy used. I found out a lot of people buy books from small bookstore websites, then sell them for a higher price on amazon. So, try and find small bookstore websites.
Renter's Insurance: Around $160/year (liberty mutual)
Credit Card: Discover. I need to get a visa because not everybody accepts Discover (ex: Costco). But there is no annual fee, I've made money off it because of cashback, and they have a "good grades" thing that got me $20 a year. I did that during my undergrad and I don't know if it applies for grad students, but I don't think they even check. I think I just needed a student email.
Furniture for new apartment: Cheapest route is probably thrifting stores, Facebook marketplace, or maybe even putting a flyer up at local churches. However, I lived with my parents before grad school so I just saved all my money and bought furniture off amazon. It's not "expensive", but it does add up quick. Definitly a few $1,000 went into that. Bought my TV from best buy open box. Oh, and this one is really ghetto, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. If you drive around dumpsters in apartment complexes or just low-income places you can find stuff. My apartment complex is constantly through out furniture. At first I was tempted to take it, fix it up, and sell it, but I didn't have time and I hate Facebook market place.
Tip: Spend a good week looking for programs/local groups that support low-income families. Government programs. Some people shame people who go on welfare and stuff like that, but guess what, you are low-income and definitely qualify. I pay taxes like everyone else and you probably do it. So yeah, abuse it. Get money back.
Food: Honesty, I am still debating if it's better to eat out everyday (places like chipotle; not McDonalds or else you'll feel sick. Speaking from experience). When I consider the time it takes to do dishes and cook food, the price I paid for groceries, time to grocery shop and make a list, I almost think going out and getting dinner every other day saves me money and time. But that's an individual thing everyone needs to think about for themself.
Lighting: My apartment as two windows and no interior lighting except the kitchen and bathroom. The light switch only controls one outlet per room. So I had to get Wi-Fi led lights. I highly recommend these (although it looks like the price went up. They were $20). The connection is good. Works simi-well with alexia. The biggest thing I like is it has a "wake-up" setting that makes me peacefully wake up everyday. I used to tell myself I am not a morning person, but these lights changed that. Also, since there are no windows I lose track of time a lot. These lights have a daylight cycle that change throughout the day.
WATCH OUT FOR BURNOUT! Get a hobby, go for a walk around a metro park, or something. Too many people burn themselves out and I was one of them. Doing classes online during Covid years ago still did a number on me. Pace yourself.
Therapy: If you are even questioning if you need it before grad school you will most likely need it during it. I don't know how expensive it is here.
I don't recommend studying at home. My issue is I really want to go home after class and tell myself I'll study at home, but I never do. Keep school stuff at school. Keep lab stuff in the lab. Your apartment should be a safe place. My only exception is writing stuff because I have a big monitor and hate my laptop.
I know some people in academia are jerks, but I say be honest with your PIs and instructors. Tell them your issues, questions, etc. I mean, don't come up to them with 1,000 of questions and get made they can't help you right there and then. Set an appointment and tell them what your questions are. If it can be done over email, do it. I only had one professor ne a jerk when I had a question, but that was about how an assignment was graded and she gets a pass because she has a relevant health issue.
Lastly, if you were a straight A student through out college, you are probably in for a rough time. Not saying it's impossible, but some people in my program are not coping well with the idea they got a B on an exam. As far as I am aware, grades don't matter after grad school and they are more focused on what type of research you did. I am speaking mainly to PhD students and don't know about master students for this.

Computer Type: Desktop PC
GPU: MSI 7900XTX CLASSIC 24G [GAMING Bios]
CPU: RYZEN 9 5950X 16 CORE 32 THREADS [PBO ENABLED]
Motherboard: AORUS X570 MASTER [Revision 1.2]
BIOS Version: F37b
RAM: 64GB G.SKILL TRIDENT Z NEO 3600MHZ CL19 [XMP ENABLED]
PSU: CORSAIR RM1000x 1000W 80+ GOLD FULLY MODULAR
Case: LIAN LI PC-O11 DYNAMIC XL
Operating System & Version: WINDOWS 11 PRO VER 22H2 (OS BUILD 22621.1413)
GPU Drivers: ADRENALIN MINIMAL INSTALL DRIVER VER 23.3.1
Chipset Drivers: AMD X570 CHIPSET DRIVERS REV 5.02.19.2221 (2/28/23)
Background Applications: DISCORD, CHROME, SPOTIFY, TELEGRAM, PROCESS LASSO, VOICEMEETER, RAZER SYNAPSE 3, SHURE PLUS MOTIV, ADRENALIN
Description of Original Problem: Doing nearly anything graphically demanding (games most of the time) eventually causes a random, non-predictable system hang, into a driver timeout. To explain how the process occurs, I just play any game, and randomly throughout playing, all my monitors will freeze on the same frame for about 5 seconds, then go black, and ill be greeted by the AMD driver timeout message on my main display.
Troubleshooting: Listed below is all the info you should be aware of, troubleshooting and relevant info:
Relevant Information: - This has not happened at all whilst previously utilizing a 3070ti just last week until I made the switch. (all other hardware is exactly the same) - Driver version 23.3.1 - Adrenalin minimal install (no extra tools/features) - I don't feel it to be a power supply issue because my system is exactly the same, except the only change is GPU; statistically, that's only 100 more watts than what I was previously pulling. - No background hardware info polling programs running (aorus engine, afterburner, ryzen master, etc) - Adrenalin settings are default, except for Freesync Premium, which is enabled. - My system is being powered by a 1500w UPS system
Things I've Tried: - DDU/AMD CLEANUP UTILITY into a fresh install of driver 23.3.1 - Only using one display - Default bios settings - Undervolting, Overclocking/Higher power limit, Default GPU settings - Multiple games - Different graphics settings, including changing games from DX12 - DX11 - Disabled MPO - Disabled AMD tesselation and texture optimization in Adrenalin (was enabled by default) - Reseating the card - Using a separate PSU cable for each female 8pin PCIE power connector on the GPU (Current Setup) - A Full minute power cycle - Minimal background programs while testing a game - Monitoring temps while playing (never passed 85c on GPU nor CPU)
Personally, I like to think that the card is not at fault, being that while playing games with graphics cranked and pulling 100% utilization @ ~350w (only ~100w more than my previous card) it performs perfectly smooth without any stutters or hitches until it randomly hits a TDTimeout point, id like to think that this may be related to something else. Help is greatly appreciated in advance.

I slump back against the wall of the elevator as it descends back into the main body of the ship...Where my Sarah is...Fuck that was close...I just want to go home with her...Finally put down my uniform and sword at last, I'm a freaking Major...I have served long enough...I just want to have lots of little ones with her, When was the last time we did it?...I sure as hell remember the first...For a creature with 3 rows of razor sharp teeth she sure as hell knows how to use those tongues...Wait...Why am I thinking like this?!...How pent up am I?...Matters not...I just want to be with Sarah for a bit...Delivering that message was my last order for today and it is approaching my sleeping hours...But since this planet has a Day/Night cycle of 19 hours instead of the traditional 24 back on New Earth, My bedtime is in this planet's day time...I just hope Sarah is off when I am...I reach my floor and I see the elevator door open...before I can even walk out of the elevator I hear the ship's alarm blare and the lights go red, I hear a panicked voice over the intercom speak "THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL! MULTIPLE CRUISER CLASS AND DESTROYER CLASS ALIEN VESSELS INBOUND FRESH FROM WARP JUMP! MAN YOUR BATTLE STATIONS AT ONCE!" I run forward as the ship's crew scrabbles to their posts, I see gunner crews running all around me to their respective turrets to engage these ships, It seems this is their last chance to spill our blood despite their already guaranteed extinction, pitiful, even now they refuse defeat, I do not know what to do, I have no post on this ship, I am supposed to return back to planets surface, back to my quarters, but now I am about to be in a naval battle, one Battle Ship versus a small group of Destroyers and Cruisers, I look out the window to see the alien ships rapidly approaching with their engines blazing behind them, 3 destroyers and 2 cruisers, all look damaged or partially repaired, I see the main batteries of this Battleship fire their first salvo at these ships, the first few shots miss but the last 30 hit the Cruisers, on of them gets their bridge completely blown off while the other cruiser tried to turn away from the shot and ended up get a few of it's engines blown out and it begins to spin out of control away from it's group, the secondary gun batteries swivel back and forth firing at small Void Craft attempting to strife our decks, I see one gun battery that has no crew, they must have not gotten here yet, but only more Void Fighters are coming from the bridgeless cruiser and and they are heading straight for this deck, I have to do something, I climb down the ladder into the battery, I sit in the one of the gunners seats and after trying a bit I convert controls to Single Gunner settings, I wrap my claws around the controls and begin to turn the turrets auto rail cannons, I have never down this before and it turns way faster than I expected, I aim the cannons at the oncoming horde of Void Fighters, and grit my teeth, I am going to love this.

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What are the Benefits of Sleepaway Camps?
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They can help children grow emotionally, socially, and mentally. Camps give children an occasion to try new effects, make new musketeers, and learn further about themselves.
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Some of the emotional benefits of sleepaway camp include feeling further
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Children frequently have to manage their own time and tasks at camp, leading to a feeling of independence.

• Independence
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• kiddies make new and lasting friendships.
• kiddies get to have FUN!
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• Learn Independence and tone Confidence
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It's been a while since I made one of these posts so I apologize in advance my rustiness is obvious.
I'm just going to get this out of the way first. I want serious lasting friendships none of this ghosting or any sort of excuse to leave that would leave me wondering. It's fine if we don't click and need to go our separate ways but please at least make it clear. I also don't want to deal messaging that loses consistency as time goes on either since that's happened too. This also means that I also won't ghost, make an excuse to cover for ghosting, or talk to you less and less. In fact I keep in frequent contact which is what I'd prefer from someone else but I do fully understand things in life happen and we get legitimately busy and I'm okay with that so long as it doesn't fizzle out.
Since it's been so long since I've made a post like this I will start with some simple note worthy things. I'm LGBTQIA+ friendly and in support of human rights, I'm for right to repair and I love animals. Another thing worth noting is my sleep schedule is out of wack so I'm up late.
So, some things about me are that I'm fairly decent with computers as I've fixed my own and maintain them. I'd like to think I'm somewhat decent in dealing with issues involving Windows but I rarely ever face any issues anymore (besides the blatant spying) which has led me to moving toward using GNU + Linux. I do play video games some of which are older and there's a blend of PC and console games that I have. Some games worth noting that I enjoy are The Sims 2, 3, 4, and Castaway, Need for Speed Underground, Underground 2, Most Wanted (2005), Carbon, Skyrim, Warframe, Saints Row 1 & 2, Dragon Ball Xenoverse 1 & 2, some of the Pokemon games (the DS ones) and of course some of the Tony Hawk games. There's more than that of course. I'm not sure if collect would be the right word for this but I do own some figures/statues of some anime characters I truly like (Vegeta, Goku, InuYasha, Spider-Man and Deadpool to name a few), I have a small collection of Beanie Boos and a growing collection of Squishmallows (I also own other stuffed animals as well). There are some hobbies of mine that I've been meaning to pick back up such as drawing, photography, making stuff in Photoshop and editing my photography that I'd like to get back to.
Outside of hobbies I'm fine with talking about life stuff, it can be deep stuff or light silly stuff, experiences, a fond childhood memory or really anything.
I'm not sure what else to add but I hope to talk to some of you soon.

Hi all.. I have a situation at the moment and it’s really starting to grind my gears.
I live in a home that has an attached granny flat.. both have our own driveways (important) however the house side (mine) has a double car port. The tenant in the flat continues to park her car in my carport and always tries to fight me on it saying she can park there..
In previous listings of the house it says it includes the carport (no sharing)
I private rent, they are through real estate. Am I allowed to call the real estate and request that she stop? She seems to think it’s in her lease.. I HIGHLY doubt it, she’s a right piece of work honestly. She has her own driveway and path to her door yet parks directly infront of my bedroom window and front door. She also shines her headlights in late at night for extended periods of time.
So yeah anyways, can I call and ask if she can do that? And can I ask them to tell her to stop?

I felt the cold wind slice into my thinning hair as if it were comprised of ethereal razors. I gripped my wounded extremities to the back of a cold metal frame built onto the atv as a ramshackle "oh sh*t handle." In a crude attempt to remain stable on the quaking apparatus as its tires found purchase on the uneven ground, truth be told, I would have wrapped my arms around my liberator for balance, and I am not wholly convinced he would have made sure I had not remained on the chariot for much longer after a move so bold. He remained silent for the entirety of the short trip and seemed to operate the vessel with a decisive focus similar to that of a student who had recently connected with a previously incomprehensible portion of a lesson. The ride concluded moments before nightfall, and what lay before me, illumined by the lights fixed to the front of the vehicle, was a derelict home that seemed out of place within the forrest. as if left there by some incongruous carpenter to be reclaimed again by the earth. Vines had grown up the dwelling in such a way that the strands of plant matter seemed sentient, and they seeped into the cracks and holes that had grown onto the home as scars do on an aging body. The home looked almost as though it was stricken with an unknown infection that only affected inanimate objects. What few windows the shack had were boarded up by scrap plywood, with small dances of flickering light visible through the gaps. A pungent odor leaked from the pores of the cottage, which mixed with the smell of gasoline from a stationary engine placed just to the right of the home's door, creating an olfactory calamity that nearly caused me to wretch immediately after coming into its range. I stared up at the shack in disbelief; this could hardly be called a structure, and judging by the generator placed outside, there was no world in which there was an instrument inside capable of connecting to the internet to send emails back and forth. It didn't take much thought to conclude this was not the Fairhaven Community but instead perhaps an outpost, or, God forbid, this is where I was supposed to stay. Before I opened my mouth to make my grievances known, the man swung his leg over the side of the ATV and motioned me to follow him. "Best we go inside," he muttered, pointing up at the sky. "Ain't the best time to be hangin' round outside." I hopped off to follow and responded, "That's what I keep hearing." I had been warned before of dark forests on other jobs, mostly due to wondering animals or the locals' fear of some long-told story of a cryptid passed down as a warning to children for years. Most of the time I took these warnings with a grain of salt, as they were normally given by any given town's designated drunkard or wise old orator in a typically playful manner during a night of backwoods revelry to welcome me. However, something about the warnings of this forest seemed much more grim and all too real. Perhaps it was my anxious nature, but as the sun fell into the horizon, I began feeling not only uneasy but I had this indescribable feeling of...impending dread, as if the world beneath me was just about to collapse and if I didn't find the warm glow of light before the cosmic radiance of the sun disappeared completely, I wouldn't ever make it to see the next day. In this moment, I would have done anything or gone anywhere to get out of the darkness for a brief moment. I ignored my aforementioned discomfort and followed the man to the door of a home I never would have entered in any other situation. The maker turned and yanked a few times on the cord of the contraption meant to provide power to the home until it let loose a roar that echoed through the valley. It slowed to an idle sputtering, and the home was illumined with an array of eclectic lights securely fixed to surfaces all around the home, wrapping me and my savior in a blanket of light that stood out in the darkening woodland. I could now see the man standing upright in vivid detail. He has a thin frame; however, his arms protruded with bulbus knots that spoke volumes of his physical capabilities. His hairline fell back on his forehead, revealing a deep scar that span its length, and his glasses seemed to not quite fit the way they were supposed to on his withered skull. He wore large boots that looked to be much too large and had been commandeered from a man who had long since lost use of them, and his face carried a sort of aversion. A look that I had come to understand was similar to mine—one that developed from being thrust into a place I had no interest in being. He extended his hand towards me, and I in turn grasped his. His calloused and overworked hands grinded into my blistered hold with an expected grip that could bust open an aluminum can with ease, causing me to wince a little in pain. "Harridson Demp" be muttered upon shaking my hand. "Caleb Hayes," I coughed back through gritted teeth. He pushed at the door, which opened with a droning creak punctuated with a sharp crack when the squeak reached its apex, revealing a dimly lit vestibule that was just big enough for the two of us to fit simultaneously. The walls were decorated with mold and peeled wallpaper, and a slight drip of water could be seen coming from a faucet just an arm's length from the floor. As I stepped inward, I felt my foot sink a little into the decomposing foundation the room was built on, almost as if it were made of half-dry clay. The potent aroma of ammonia formed a poignant wall that sat midway through the room; the air was humid and nearly thick enough to reach out and grasp. I looked over toward the man with an apparently indisputable face of disgust formed by nearly three long decades of comfortable living. "Put your purse down; it's better in here than out there," he said with an offended glance. "Do you live here?" I choked out through my lips, pursing them, preparing to release what little I had eaten in the past 24 hours. He stepped slightly toward the second door placed in the hellish airlock and spoke, "Not just me; family's here too." I was floored at the thought of a family living in the squalor I had seen, not to mention what had yet to be seen. Understand, I've been in plenty of questionable family living situations prior to this poor excuse of a home, and it looked as though it had been not only neglected but purposefully mistreated by anything it had come into contact with. I made contact with the abysmal interior of the dwelling and was instantly greeted by a compact space that acted as a kitchen as well as a living area, with a makeshift cot placed in front of a rusted stove. The walls were covered in off-putting paintings and portraits of varying quality, ranging from childlike to outlandish renditions of common things that covered my skin in goosebumps. Refuse and filth littered the ground in all but a few pathways to a different door. From my count, there were 3 doors in total, two of which were shut, however, and sitting slanted on brittle hinges. The other door on the wall adjacent to myself was opened wide and presented something akin to a bathroom. Inside of the chamber stood a woman dressed in a stained white button-up and a dingy yellow apron who was emaciated in stature with netted locks of auburn hair that fell much too far down her crooked spine. She carried herself with a submissive and reserved posture—not that she was shy or skeptical of me, but as if she were broken and mortified. The woman didn't lift her head as we walked in but simply gave a trembling nod as she rushed to the room on her right and gently tapped at the decaying wood frame of the door. The door flew open, and three children walked out from within it. The oldest of the children looked to be a boy of about 15 draped in a large set of ill-fitting and torn rubber waders with brown hair that sat awkwardly just above his large ears, the middle child was a young girl with hair similar to the woman who welcomed me into the loathsome palace; her face, however, displayed a wide smile of unkempt teeth as she brandished a still-dripping paintbrush, and the youngest of the children was a boy who couldn't have been more than 6 years old; he wore a trucker cap tightly sque Every one of the brood stood like some extraterrestrial being horribly attempting to appear human; their eyes were all tired and filled with thousands of years' worth of experience that I would prefer to distance myself from. The scene before me was disheartening, and it did not help the state of confusion I had been in at every waking moment since I arrived at the gas station. I had thought perhaps that Harrison initially was the father of the family, but the way their looks, their clothes, and their states of being contrasted with his own drove me to think otherwise. Harridson cleared his throat, motioned towards the children who had filed out of the threshold, and announced, "Oldest there is Carl, but we call him Gator on account of his love for animals, middle one is Lucille, she's the artist around here," he said, motioning to the walls before continuing, "and that there are the twins." I gave him a questioning eyebrow that broke him from his rant. "Twins?" I broke the silence. He nodded, saying, "It's like he's got two people living inside of him." not just like mood swings but as two completely separate personalities. "The one you see right now is Dale, and the other is Wiley." I had a thousand queries about the youngest child alone, but opted to keep the majority of them to myself before stammering, "Are..do..how long have you guys lived here?" Lucille perked up and raised her brush to speak, but was immediately intercepted by Harridson. "I'd say about 5 years now?" For five long and assuredly horrid years, the family had stayed in a four-room home that was moments away from falling into the crust of the earth. Was I supposed to inhabit this contaminated vivarium as well? The very notion of remaining here for just a single night showered me with a rain of traumatic feelings. Was this the family I was meant to teach? If so, then why was I not informed or introduced properly, and why was the patriarch of the family so vastly different from the animalistic paupers he claimed as his kin? My vision began to flatten, and my heartbeat picked up to a machine gun pace as the archaic lights illuminating the room started to heat my skin, causing cold beads of sweat to form in my violently shaking hands. My breathing twisted into a brisk and labored wheeze as though I'd run a mile in seconds. My hearing floated in and out as I heard the Gator speak in an overly high-pitched and nasally whine. "You alright, mister?" is the last thing I remember hearing before feeling Harridon's iron grip close around my shoulders, which have started to plummet to the cluttered floor. I was surprised in the moment at how Harridson had yet again come to my aid during a tragic moment, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I had been in situations where the families I was teaching were unclean, disorganized, or impoverished, but my current predicament, accompanied by sleepless exhaustion, must have humiliated the man, who was most likely presenting himself in a better light to net a better quality of life. It was sometime between the end stages of my panic attack and the floor that I lost consciousness that night, and if I can be transparent only for a moment compared to now, it was the best night's sleep I would have for a very long time.

I felt the cold wind slice into my thinning hair as if it were comprised of ethereal razors. I gripped my wounded extremities to the back of a cold metal frame built onto the atv as a ramshackle "oh sh*t handle." In a crude attempt to remain stable on the quaking apparatus as its tires found purchase on the uneven ground, truth be told, I would have wrapped my arms around my liberator for balance, and I am not wholly convinced he would have made sure I had not remained on the chariot for much longer after a move so bold. He remained silent for the entirety of the short trip and seemed to operate the vessel with a decisive focus similar to that of a student who had recently connected with a previously incomprehensible portion of a lesson. The ride concluded moments before nightfall, and what lay before me, illumined by the lights fixed to the front of the vehicle, was a derelict home that seemed out of place within the forrest. as if left there by some incongruous carpenter to be reclaimed again by the earth. Vines had grown up the dwelling in such a way that the strands of plant matter seemed sentient, and they seeped into the cracks and holes that had grown onto the home as scars do on an aging body. The home looked almost as though it was stricken with an unknown infection that only affected inanimate objects. What few windows the shack had were boarded up by scrap plywood, with small dances of flickering light visible through the gaps. A pungent odor leaked from the pores of the cottage, which mixed with the smell of gasoline from a stationary engine placed just to the right of the home's door, creating an olfactory calamity that nearly caused me to wretch immediately after coming into its range. I stared up at the shack in disbelief; this could hardly be called a structure, and judging by the generator placed outside, there was no world in which there was an instrument inside capable of connecting to the internet to send emails back and forth. It didn't take much thought to conclude this was not the Fairhaven Community but instead perhaps an outpost, or, God forbid, this is where I was supposed to stay. Before I opened my mouth to make my grievances known, the man swung his leg over the side of the ATV and motioned me to follow him. "Best we go inside," he muttered, pointing up at the sky. "Ain't the best time to be hangin' round outside." I hopped off to follow and responded, "That's what I keep hearing." I had been warned before of dark forests on other jobs, mostly due to wondering animals or the locals' fear of some long-told story of a cryptid passed down as a warning to children for years. Most of the time I took these warnings with a grain of salt, as they were normally given by any given town's designated drunkard or wise old orator in a typically playful manner during a night of backwoods revelry to welcome me. However, something about the warnings of this forest seemed much more grim and all too real. Perhaps it was my anxious nature, but as the sun fell into the horizon, I began feeling not only uneasy but I had this indescribable feeling of...impending dread, as if the world beneath me was just about to collapse and if I didn't find the warm glow of light before the cosmic radiance of the sun disappeared completely, I wouldn't ever make it to see the next day. In this moment, I would have done anything or gone anywhere to get out of the darkness for a brief moment. I ignored my aforementioned discomfort and followed the man to the door of a home I never would have entered in any other situation. The maker turned and yanked a few times on the cord of the contraption meant to provide power to the home until it let loose a roar that echoed through the valley. It slowed to an idle sputtering, and the home was illumined with an array of eclectic lights securely fixed to surfaces all around the home, wrapping me and my savior in a blanket of light that stood out in the darkening woodland. I could now see the man standing upright in vivid detail. He has a thin frame; however, his arms protruded with bulbus knots that spoke volumes of his physical capabilities. His hairline fell back on his forehead, revealing a deep scar that span its length, and his glasses seemed to not quite fit the way they were supposed to on his withered skull. He wore large boots that looked to be much too large and had been commandeered from a man who had long since lost use of them, and his face carried a sort of aversion. A look that I had come to understand was similar to mine—one that developed from being thrust into a place I had no interest in being. He extended his hand towards me, and I in turn grasped his. His calloused and overworked hands grinded into my blistered hold with an expected grip that could bust open an aluminum can with ease, causing me to wince a little in pain. "Harridson Demp" be muttered upon shaking my hand. "Caleb Hayes," I coughed back through gritted teeth. He pushed at the door, which opened with a droning creak punctuated with a sharp crack when the squeak reached its apex, revealing a dimly lit vestibule that was just big enough for the two of us to fit simultaneously. The walls were decorated with mold and peeled wallpaper, and a slight drip of water could be seen coming from a faucet just an arm's length from the floor. As I stepped inward, I felt my foot sink a little into the decomposing foundation the room was built on, almost as if it were made of half-dry clay. The potent aroma of ammonia formed a poignant wall that sat midway through the room; the air was humid and nearly thick enough to reach out and grasp. I looked over toward the man with an apparently indisputable face of disgust formed by nearly three long decades of comfortable living. "Put your purse down; it's better in here than out there," he said with an offended glance. "Do you live here?" I choked out through my lips, pursing them, preparing to release what little I had eaten in the past 24 hours. He stepped slightly toward the second door placed in the hellish airlock and spoke, "Not just me; family's here too." I was floored at the thought of a family living in the squalor I had seen, not to mention what had yet to be seen. Understand, I've been in plenty of questionable family living situations prior to this poor excuse of a home, and it looked as though it had been not only neglected but purposefully mistreated by anything it had come into contact with. I made contact with the abysmal interior of the dwelling and was instantly greeted by a compact space that acted as a kitchen as well as a living area, with a makeshift cot placed in front of a rusted stove. The walls were covered in off-putting paintings and portraits of varying quality, ranging from childlike to outlandish renditions of common things that covered my skin in goosebumps. Refuse and filth littered the ground in all but a few pathways to a different door. From my count, there were 3 doors in total, two of which were shut, however, and sitting slanted on brittle hinges. The other door on the wall adjacent to myself was opened wide and presented something akin to a bathroom. Inside of the chamber stood a woman dressed in a stained white button-up and a dingy yellow apron who was emaciated in stature with netted locks of auburn hair that fell much too far down her crooked spine. She carried herself with a submissive and reserved posture—not that she was shy or skeptical of me, but as if she were broken and mortified. The woman didn't lift her head as we walked in but simply gave a trembling nod as she rushed to the room on her right and gently tapped at the decaying wood frame of the door. The door flew open, and three children walked out from within it. The oldest of the children looked to be a boy of about 15 draped in a large set of ill-fitting and torn rubber waders with brown hair that sat awkwardly just above his large ears, the middle child was a young girl with hair similar to the woman who welcomed me into the loathsome palace; her face, however, displayed a wide smile of unkempt teeth as she brandished a still-dripping paintbrush, and the youngest of the children was a boy who couldn't have been more than 6 years old; he wore a trucker cap tightly sque Every one of the brood stood like some extraterrestrial being horribly attempting to appear human; their eyes were all tired and filled with thousands of years' worth of experience that I would prefer to distance myself from. The scene before me was disheartening, and it did not help the state of confusion I had been in at every waking moment since I arrived at the gas station. I had thought perhaps that Harrison initially was the father of the family, but the way their looks, their clothes, and their states of being contrasted with his own drove me to think otherwise. Harridson cleared his throat, motioned towards the children who had filed out of the threshold, and announced, "Oldest there is Carl, but we call him Gator on account of his love for animals, middle one is Lucille, she's the artist around here," he said, motioning to the walls before continuing, "and that there are the twins." I gave him a questioning eyebrow that broke him from his rant. "Twins?" I broke the silence. He nodded, saying, "It's like he's got two people living inside of him." not just like mood swings but as two completely separate personalities. "The one you see right now is Dale, and the other is Wiley." I had a thousand queries about the youngest child alone, but opted to keep the majority of them to myself before stammering, "Are..do..how long have you guys lived here?" Lucille perked up and raised her brush to speak, but was immediately intercepted by Harridson. "I'd say about 5 years now?" For five long and assuredly horrid years, the family had stayed in a four-room home that was moments away from falling into the crust of the earth. Was I supposed to inhabit this contaminated vivarium as well? The very notion of remaining here for just a single night showered me with a rain of traumatic feelings. Was this the family I was meant to teach? If so, then why was I not informed or introduced properly, and why was the patriarch of the family so vastly different from the animalistic paupers he claimed as his kin? My vision began to flatten, and my heartbeat picked up to a machine gun pace as the archaic lights illuminating the room started to heat my skin, causing cold beads of sweat to form in my violently shaking hands. My breathing twisted into a brisk and labored wheeze as though I'd run a mile in seconds. My hearing floated in and out as I heard the Gator speak in an overly high-pitched and nasally whine. "You alright, mister?" is the last thing I remember hearing before feeling Harridon's iron grip close around my shoulders, which have started to plummet to the cluttered floor. I was surprised in the moment at how Harridson had yet again come to my aid during a tragic moment, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I had been in situations where the families I was teaching were unclean, disorganized, or impoverished, but my current predicament, accompanied by sleepless exhaustion, must have humiliated the man, who was most likely presenting himself in a better light to net a better quality of life. It was sometime between the end stages of my panic attack and the floor that I lost consciousness that night, and if I can be transparent only for a moment compared to now, it was the best night's sleep I would have for a very long time.

I felt the cold wind slice into my thinning hair as if it were comprised of ethereal razors. I gripped my wounded extremities to the back of a cold metal frame built onto the atv as a ramshackle "oh sh*t handle." In a crude attempt to remain stable on the quaking apparatus as its tires found purchase on the uneven ground, truth be told, I would have wrapped my arms around my liberator for balance, and I am not wholly convinced he would have made sure I had not remained on the chariot for much longer after a move so bold. He remained silent for the entirety of the short trip and seemed to operate the vessel with a decisive focus similar to that of a student who had recently connected with a previously incomprehensible portion of a lesson. The ride concluded moments before nightfall, and what lay before me, illumined by the lights fixed to the front of the vehicle, was a derelict home that seemed out of place within the forrest. as if left there by some incongruous carpenter to be reclaimed again by the earth. Vines had grown up the dwelling in such a way that the strands of plant matter seemed sentient, and they seeped into the cracks and holes that had grown onto the home as scars do on an aging body. The home looked almost as though it was stricken with an unknown infection that only affected inanimate objects. What few windows the shack had were boarded up by scrap plywood, with small dances of flickering light visible through the gaps. A pungent odor leaked from the pores of the cottage, which mixed with the smell of gasoline from a stationary engine placed just to the right of the home's door, creating an olfactory calamity that nearly caused me to wretch immediately after coming into its range. I stared up at the shack in disbelief; this could hardly be called a structure, and judging by the generator placed outside, there was no world in which there was an instrument inside capable of connecting to the internet to send emails back and forth. It didn't take much thought to conclude this was not the Fairhaven Community but instead perhaps an outpost, or, God forbid, this is where I was supposed to stay. Before I opened my mouth to make my grievances known, the man swung his leg over the side of the ATV and motioned me to follow him. "Best we go inside," he muttered, pointing up at the sky. "Ain't the best time to be hangin' round outside." I hopped off to follow and responded, "That's what I keep hearing." I had been warned before of dark forests on other jobs, mostly due to wondering animals or the locals' fear of some long-told story of a cryptid passed down as a warning to children for years. Most of the time I took these warnings with a grain of salt, as they were normally given by any given town's designated drunkard or wise old orator in a typically playful manner during a night of backwoods revelry to welcome me. However, something about the warnings of this forest seemed much more grim and all too real. Perhaps it was my anxious nature, but as the sun fell into the horizon, I began feeling not only uneasy but I had this indescribable feeling of...impending dread, as if the world beneath me was just about to collapse and if I didn't find the warm glow of light before the cosmic radiance of the sun disappeared completely, I wouldn't ever make it to see the next day. In this moment, I would have done anything or gone anywhere to get out of the darkness for a brief moment. I ignored my aforementioned discomfort and followed the man to the door of a home I never would have entered in any other situation. The maker turned and yanked a few times on the cord of the contraption meant to provide power to the home until it let loose a roar that echoed through the valley. It slowed to an idle sputtering, and the home was illumined with an array of eclectic lights securely fixed to surfaces all around the home, wrapping me and my savior in a blanket of light that stood out in the darkening woodland. I could now see the man standing upright in vivid detail. He has a thin frame; however, his arms protruded with bulbus knots that spoke volumes of his physical capabilities. His hairline fell back on his forehead, revealing a deep scar that span its length, and his glasses seemed to not quite fit the way they were supposed to on his withered skull. He wore large boots that looked to be much too large and had been commandeered from a man who had long since lost use of them, and his face carried a sort of aversion. A look that I had come to understand was similar to mine—one that developed from being thrust into a place I had no interest in being. He extended his hand towards me, and I in turn grasped his. His calloused and overworked hands grinded into my blistered hold with an expected grip that could bust open an aluminum can with ease, causing me to wince a little in pain. "Harridson Demp" be muttered upon shaking my hand. "Caleb Hayes," I coughed back through gritted teeth. He pushed at the door, which opened with a droning creak punctuated with a sharp crack when the squeak reached its apex, revealing a dimly lit vestibule that was just big enough for the two of us to fit simultaneously. The walls were decorated with mold and peeled wallpaper, and a slight drip of water could be seen coming from a faucet just an arm's length from the floor. As I stepped inward, I felt my foot sink a little into the decomposing foundation the room was built on, almost as if it were made of half-dry clay. The potent aroma of ammonia formed a poignant wall that sat midway through the room; the air was humid and nearly thick enough to reach out and grasp. I looked over toward the man with an apparently indisputable face of disgust formed by nearly three long decades of comfortable living. "Put your purse down; it's better in here than out there," he said with an offended glance. "Do you live here?" I choked out through my lips, pursing them, preparing to release what little I had eaten in the past 24 hours. He stepped slightly toward the second door placed in the hellish airlock and spoke, "Not just me; family's here too." I was floored at the thought of a family living in the squalor I had seen, not to mention what had yet to be seen. Understand, I've been in plenty of questionable family living situations prior to this poor excuse of a home, and it looked as though it had been not only neglected but purposefully mistreated by anything it had come into contact with. I made contact with the abysmal interior of the dwelling and was instantly greeted by a compact space that acted as a kitchen as well as a living area, with a makeshift cot placed in front of a rusted stove. The walls were covered in off-putting paintings and portraits of varying quality, ranging from childlike to outlandish renditions of common things that covered my skin in goosebumps. Refuse and filth littered the ground in all but a few pathways to a different door. From my count, there were 3 doors in total, two of which were shut, however, and sitting slanted on brittle hinges. The other door on the wall adjacent to myself was opened wide and presented something akin to a bathroom. Inside of the chamber stood a woman dressed in a stained white button-up and a dingy yellow apron who was emaciated in stature with netted locks of auburn hair that fell much too far down her crooked spine. She carried herself with a submissive and reserved posture—not that she was shy or skeptical of me, but as if she were broken and mortified. The woman didn't lift her head as we walked in but simply gave a trembling nod as she rushed to the room on her right and gently tapped at the decaying wood frame of the door. The door flew open, and three children walked out from within it. The oldest of the children looked to be a boy of about 15 draped in a large set of ill-fitting and torn rubber waders with brown hair that sat awkwardly just above his large ears, the middle child was a young girl with hair similar to the woman who welcomed me into the loathsome palace; her face, however, displayed a wide smile of unkempt teeth as she brandished a still-dripping paintbrush, and the youngest of the children was a boy who couldn't have been more than 6 years old; he wore a trucker cap tightly sque Every one of the brood stood like some extraterrestrial being horribly attempting to appear human; their eyes were all tired and filled with thousands of years' worth of experience that I would prefer to distance myself from. The scene before me was disheartening, and it did not help the state of confusion I had been in at every waking moment since I arrived at the gas station. I had thought perhaps that Harrison initially was the father of the family, but the way their looks, their clothes, and their states of being contrasted with his own drove me to think otherwise. Harridson cleared his throat, motioned towards the children who had filed out of the threshold, and announced, "Oldest there is Carl, but we call him Gator on account of his love for animals, middle one is Lucille, she's the artist around here," he said, motioning to the walls before continuing, "and that there are the twins." I gave him a questioning eyebrow that broke him from his rant. "Twins?" I broke the silence. He nodded, saying, "It's like he's got two people living inside of him." not just like mood swings but as two completely separate personalities. "The one you see right now is Dale, and the other is Wiley." I had a thousand queries about the youngest child alone, but opted to keep the majority of them to myself before stammering, "Are..do..how long have you guys lived here?" Lucille perked up and raised her brush to speak, but was immediately intercepted by Harridson. "I'd say about 5 years now?" For five long and assuredly horrid years, the family had stayed in a four-room home that was moments away from falling into the crust of the earth. Was I supposed to inhabit this contaminated vivarium as well? The very notion of remaining here for just a single night showered me with a rain of traumatic feelings. Was this the family I was meant to teach? If so, then why was I not informed or introduced properly, and why was the patriarch of the family so vastly different from the animalistic paupers he claimed as his kin? My vision began to flatten, and my heartbeat picked up to a machine gun pace as the archaic lights illuminating the room started to heat my skin, causing cold beads of sweat to form in my violently shaking hands. My breathing twisted into a brisk and labored wheeze as though I'd run a mile in seconds. My hearing floated in and out as I heard the Gator speak in an overly high-pitched and nasally whine. "You alright, mister?" is the last thing I remember hearing before feeling Harridon's iron grip close around my shoulders, which have started to plummet to the cluttered floor. I was surprised in the moment at how Harridson had yet again come to my aid during a tragic moment, and I couldn't help but feel ashamed. I had been in situations where the families I was teaching were unclean, disorganized, or impoverished, but my current predicament, accompanied by sleepless exhaustion, must have humiliated the man, who was most likely presenting himself in a better light to net a better quality of life. It was sometime between the end stages of my panic attack and the floor that I lost consciousness that night, and if I can be transparent only for a moment compared to now, it was the best night's sleep I would have for a very long time.

[ Quite a "CRuSH" (iDk)
Today was my exam & my preparation was so poor. I've read for only around 6 hours for it. It's an annual exam of chemistry(16chapters). So I guess, i've made around barely 50/100.
In exam hall,firstly my pencil fall down on the bench next to mine.I'm on last bench at corner side, in my room, there're 6/20 boys. A girl,who was on that bench, given me it. In just about 10mins later, my scale fall down.This time I actually didn't need it in the rest paper.So I didn't ask & she didn't give me too. & a moment later, my hall ticket fall.Now she turned towards me & like smiling, but I said it's okay give me it later with expressing it with hands .When exam finished, she turned towards me with quite laughing/smiling & I ask her to give me it. She gave me & I thanked her. She smiled & welcomed me. But, now I'm thinking like isn't she might be thinking/seeing me as a idiot boy??or like a kid who can't keep things??Now it's freaking me out! Surely you got that I'm an overthinker!
I think she might thought that how silly this guy is!
((I liked her smile!btw)) ]
Incident, that happened on last exam. So today, I was completely aware that nothing should fall down by any chance. Bcz I don't want to sound silly person!!
This day, when I reached at exam hall, she asked me something related to hall ticket. She can ask this to other girls that were there too. And they all were even talking with eachother something about old papers too. But she asked me! Idk why? Just asked perhaps. So I didn't give it thoughts at all.
But unfortunately, happened! Again the pencil fall down in the middle of paper. I couldn't help myself! But this time she didn't even take a look at it. But fortunately, I always keep two pencils. In case, one's age broken, I don't need to waste time for sharping it. So I used it. When exam finished, she was looking for something under the bench. I shown my pencil by signing it. She told me that she wasn't looking for mine one, she's looking for her!! And just given me mine pencil. So I looked down for her's. I didn't see anything. Within a moment she moved towards door.
What's wrong was today? It's all was mere incident. I guess, she migh told this all first day to her parents. And they might told her not to give anyone without being asked. Kinda guys can be flirting and all.
And I guess, my crush is over! She's cute looking, no doubt! She's skinny, still looks better. But I guess, now I'm crushed! I can't see that feeling at all!

I have two rain water leaks that I have not been able to identify the source of problem for close to 10 years. The first is water and dampness that collect in the lower corners and sills of two large windows on a second floor. We were told that windows were the cause of the leaks, so we replaced the windows, but the problem persist.
The leaks downstairs is above the patio sliding doors, right under the same area as upstair’s leaks, meaning of the same wall. However, the leaks and water damages appear about 3 inches below the ceiling, about the same level as the patio roof. It’s completely dry on the other side of the patio roof and the top of the sliding doors, so we cannot confirm if the patio is the problem. In face we had built the patio in part to solve the leak…
I suspect that it could be the stucco, but have been told that it’s very unlikely. It’s a track home built in the mid 80s and I haven’t heard of neighbors having the same issue.
Help!

TLDR: day one, brand cat escaped his room and dashed into bedroom. Immediately ambushed by established cat (hissing, claws, etc). Luckily only I sustained a scratch. Aside from sticking to a slow introduction process what can I do to reset relations as much as possible and manage my own expectations.
Longer story here:
Hello everyone,
So I inherited my mother's cat about 2 years ago. He's a neutered male cat aged around 6 I'll call Fred, he was adopted off the streets at a young age and was always a super friendly guy. Very much the social butterfly, he loves people and has never shown any aggression towards people. He has fluffed his tail and hissed a bit at cats he's seen outside at night but . But I decided to give getting another cat a try. My reasoning has to do with noticing how much Fred seems saddened when I leave each day and is very clingy when I come back home. During the pandemic I was pretty much always home and my mother was very much a homebody during the entire time Fred's been around. In short Fred doesn't like being alone. In his time Fred has gotten along well with my aunt's old german shepherd and tolerated an ex's Pomeranian
I searched for a good adoption candidate for awhile and opted for another neutered adult male aged 2 I'll call Dan who is good with other cats. I brought Dan home today and was very careful to move fred into the bathroom and slide Dan into my office which I opted as being his space while I do introductions. Dan has turned out to be a very very curious cat. Dan settled into the office well and was quickly up and roaming about.
Fred was quickly curious about what was behind the door to the office. He puffed up his tail and hissed but I brought out some treats he liked and he quickly lost interest. Good I thought, I wouldn't be tricked into ignoring the sounds of a unknown person in my house by a couple of skittles. I got my girlfriend to distract Fred and I re-entered the office, closed the door and found that Dan had squeezed himself under a cabinet. I figured he was spooked by Fred's hissing, but reemerged after a few minutes of me being there. The rest of the evening went well but I noticed that I had to be very fast and careful when exiting the office since Dan would try to escape into the rest of the house. And sure enough about an hour ago, Dan dove between my legs and rushed into my bedroom. Which was where Fred I assume had been sleeping. Fred immediately dove right at Dan, who darted to a corner. Fred was yowling and was swinging his claws. Dan swatted back but was clearly on the defensive. I grabbed Fred while Dan rushed back to the office and I placed Fred in the bathroom and closed the office door. I let Fred back out and he went back to the bedroom and sniffed around the spot where he had Dan cornered. Once Fred had calmed down. I went back to the office and Dan reemerged from his hiding after a couple of minutes.
This was not the plan at all. But I did not expect Fred to be so quick to violence. In the handful of occasions a cat has passed through my backyard. Fred was focused on what it was doing but would only hiss a bit when they came up to the window. I know this is supposed to be a slow process but is it reasonable to expect that given time with a slow introduction taking steps to swap spaces, feed across the door, and viewing each other in small short intervals, this could all work out?
After writing all this I'm guessing only time will tell. I ordered some pheromones off amazon and now when I exit or enter the office I plan on putting the cats in covered carriers to rule out any chance they get in contact with each other in an unplanned manner again. I figure some of this is me just venting as well. I love Fred, he's been an amazing cat I feel bad that he basically thought someone had invaded his home and funny enough after the fight he looked shook up and wanted to hang close to me. I also love Dan, in just this one day he's been very affectionate towards me and I really like his inquisitive nature, though I predict it might be source of trouble.
Does anyone have any success stories after something like this happened? Any tips beyond seperate spaces, feeding close by / positive associations, and eventually having very controlled meetups?
Fred is harness trained and when he sees Dan again I'm having him on a leash. I have a second harness that I will get Dan used to before they see each other again. I bought some pheromones on amazon that I am going to plug in around the house once they arrive.