📅 Thursday, 27 August 2026 · No. 149

Settling Back In, Girlfriend Next Year

💤 Behavior Diaries · ✎ 5 min · by Azmi in Meknes

Azmi's note My personal log from Meknes, not vet advice. Just what I did and saw tonight.

I am Azmi, hosting from my place in Meknes, and the invitations are going out: Butters is settling back in, and we are throwing the emotional equivalent of a housewarming party. After some hiccups that had me hovering like a nervous host, he is curious again, begging for pets, active and binky-heavy. The guest of honor has arrived, and the official announcement on the fridge reads: girlfriend next year.

Planning this party, by which I mean arranging his days so he feels safe and celebrated, has been my whole project. I moved the furniture back to the layout he likes. I set out the familiar blanket. I sat on the floor at his level instead of looming over him. Slowly the hiccups faded and the old Butters walked back into the room: nose up, tail ready, asking for head rubs with the confidence of a host checking his guest list.

The guest list: one soft chubby boy

Every party needs a guest list, and mine has exactly one name in large letters. Butters: cutie who loves his humans, professional beggar of pets, part-time acrobat. He greets me with his front paws up and his eyes wide, the elite begging posture captured in one of my favorite photos, and I melt every single time. No plus-one yet, though the invitation for next year is already written in pencil.

I am not a vet, so anything about diet changes or bonding timing I run past my vet in Meknes first and follow exactly what they advise. My notes about his meals and his future bond mean little without that guidance behind them. What I do at home is keep everything steady: the same feeding spots, the same quiet hours, the same patient floor-sitting while he decides I am worth approaching.

The snack table: familiar favorites

No housewarming works without a snack table, and his is stocked with the familiar. Fresh hay piled high in two spots so he never has to travel far. Water changed often and placed where he likes it. The little extras I share are given strategically, the way the original post confessed, spaced through the day so there is always something to look forward to. Spoiling continues within reason, mostly, and Butters supervises the table personally.

My settling tracker from those weeks looks like a party planner’s checklist with crumbs on it. Appetite: steady, chunk maintained, every meal greeted with enthusiasm. Energy: frequent binkies, logged with joy, including one twist mid-air that made me laugh out loud. Curiosity: returning daily, with longer explorations and braver sniffs into corners he had ignored during the hiccup days.

Appetite station: regular meals eaten eagerly, weight looking steady to my eye
Dance floor: frequent binkies and zoom laps when the mood strikes
Meet and greet: curious approaches and long petting sessions, begged for politely

Seating plan: wherever he wants

Seating at this party follows one rule: Butters chooses. Some evenings he wants the rug beside my feet, stretched long,asking for pets with his chin flat to the floor. Other evenings he wants the cooler corner, loafed neatly, watching me with soft eyes. I keep a cushion ready, I keep my hand available, and I let him arrange the room. A good host reads the guest, and this guest writes his preferences very clearly with his whole body.

Those first curious weeks reminded me strongly of my notes on a new rabbit week spent watching and learning each expression. Different rabbit, same education: I spend hours guessing what each ear angle means, what each nudge asks for, and when to offer my hand versus when to sit still. Butters taught the course faster than most, possibly because treats were involved.

The photos from this stretch tell the story better than I can. One shows him settling back into his favorite spot, finally relaxed. Another catches the begging posture at full power, paws lifted, eyes enormous. A third finds him curious and cozy in the same minute, which is a very Butters combination. The last one I labeled girlfriend pending, because his face in it looks ready for company, hopeful and soft.

Future plus-one: girlfriend next year

Now the announcement that deserves its own invitation card. Girlfriend next year, pending the timing my vet advises and the slow introductions such things require. I picture her already: some calm lady who will love laying beside a soft chubby boy, sharing hay piles and trading grooming sessions. Congratulations in advance, Butters, as the original post said, and I mean it more with every binky.

I have been reading about careful first meetings for when that day comes, including the two-plate approach I once wrote about in my bonding dinners note about day one with two plates in neutral territory. Separate dishes, neutral ground, short sessions, and patience measured in weeks rather than hours. That future work starts with the confidence he is building now, one settled evening at a time.

Party favors and closing toast

So here is my toast, raised with a glass of tea while Butters gets an extra sprig of whatever he likes best. To settling back in: to curiosity returning, to pets begged for and gladly given, to binkies in the hallway at hours no host would schedule. He came through the wobbly days and chose the warm version of home again, and that choice feels worth celebrating with the people, meaning me, who love him.

The party never really ends; it just becomes daily life. Same rug, same blanket, same boy asking for one more head rub before dinner. Next year the guest list grows by one, and I will plan that welcome with the same care, the same vet guidance, and the same pencil-written invitations. Until then, the house is his, the snacks are strategic, and the host could not be happier with how the evening, and every evening, is going.