Someone found the toy collection.
Kitten (still nameless, but we're trying) was chasing Possum around the apartment last night. They also wrestle: the kitten lies on his back, legs flailing and teeth flashing, while Possum swats and gives air nips. Possum also licks the kitten's head. Possum has a buddy, and my hopes are fulfilled.
I am pleased to report that the kitten is showing excellent potential to revive the Cheese Patrol, having snarfed some bits of American (I thought it best to start slow) two nights in a row. Possum and Wendy tried to upstage him and failed as usual. Wendy still doesn't recognize cheese as food despite watching the kitten eat it enthusiastically. Possum can't keep cheese in his mouth long enough to swallow it and drops each soggy bit on the floor. The kitten doesn't just eat the cheese; he also races into the kitchen whenever I'm in there. A key aspect of Cheese Patrol duty is knowing that cheese doesn't come to you, you must detect its presence and demand an inspection.
Wendy reappeared in our lives after a week of protest, eating and hanging out more-or-less as she did before the kitten came. Her growling and hissing have diminished, although she gave him a few quick swats that I didn't like. The kitten wasn't fazed, though. And all three cats played together with their new Cat Dancer toy. Wendy watches the kitten play without getting upset (although her expression is priceless: I never knew a cat could manage to look so disapproving and supercilious). She allows him to get within a couple of feet of her before she feels threatened and reacts. So the kitten is still spending lonely hours in the office when we're sleeping or if we both go out, until Wendy can be trusted. And she's getting there; maybe it's due to the Rescue Remedy. She is at heart sweet and gentle, so we're confident she'll make friends soon.