How to steal a cat, in many by no means easy steps

Second encounter took place on Saturday morning and went pretty much like the first, upon which I decided it was time to throw my fears overboard and take the next step.
So Lola moved into her new quarters on Saturday afternoon. I put her into the room where the piano, my desk and the red couch are, because 1) ze boyz don't use it much, 2) it's rather big, and 3) Lola can access the balcony through the window, which offers the added bonus of enhanced contact through the (closed) balcony door to the living room.
I took Alexandra's pillow and Lola's cuddly blanket, plus a few of her toys, and she settled in rather well; ze boyz were very interested in the locked (she's too clever by half, so I thought I'd rather be on the safe side) door and everything behind it. On Saturday I left her in there, so she could get used to the new premises.
Yesterday I did the first switch, i.e. ze boyz went into Lola's room, and Lola was allowed to explore the rest of the flat. Window closed, balcony door open, so they could communicate through the closed window if they were so inclined. Veeery cautious exploration of the flat. Two hilarious moments, when she hissed at her reflection in the kitchen cabinets, and when she took the black styrofoam piglet for a cat. I was very happy to see that she relaxes visibly when I'm in the same room.
After 2,5 hours I switched them back, gave goodies and cuddles to ze boyz who'd been very good.
Another switch in the evening, a bit shorter this time (only 1,5 hrs) in order not to overstretch ze boyz's patience, and this time Lola was more relaxed, so much in fact that she fell fast asleep in one of the armchairs in the living room. Of course my heart ached when I had to pick her up and put her back into her room, but that couldn't be helped.
After careful consideration and consultations with Gabi (my friend who was n Ankara together with me), I decided on the following strategy: two more switches, tonight and tomorrow night, and on Wednesday morning the first real encounter -- it's the best moment, because it's feeding time, so chances are that hunger and greed might outweigh the need to fight. After breakfast, they'll again be separated, since there's no way I'm leaving the trio to itself during the day, even if the encounter goes tolerably well. Another encounter in the evening. Same on Thursday and Friday, and then I can take the final step on Saturday and leave them together for a longer period of time. gypaetus , your views on this would be highly appreciated.

Right now I'm feeling like shit, because I have this sensation of making everybody unhappy -- understandable, because neither concerned party is happy with having to stay in the piano room. Plus, I'm still horribly worried something might go wrong, which is also understandable, and I try to fight it with copious amounts of common sense, but of course that's not 100% effective.
And I'm tired. This whole rigmarole, if properly done, is really very time-consuming, because not only do I have to soothe and cajole Lola while she's exploring, but afterwards both parties have to be cuddled, played with and given goodies, so as not to feel neglected. It's going to pay off, though -- the more time I invest now, the more smoothly it will go. And once the trio is established I can sleep to my heart's content.

Alexandra answered the mail I wrote her, and I'm quite happy with the reply. I didn't need the apology -- it's not as if she'd deliberately harmed or hurt me -- but she has very obviously understood my situation, and that's what counts. Of course I was right about her feeling bad about her own situation with Lily the dog in Vienna and Lola the cat in Skopje, but that's a problem she'll have to deal with. Anyway, I'm glad I wrote her that mail, and also glad it seems to have provoked thought rather than some kind of knee-jerk reflex.

Though probably unnecessary, not to say redundant, I'm totally smitten with Lola. Between bouts of utter crazyness she's very, very affectionate and well on her way to becoming my cat. Well, she already is, to tell the truth.

Otherwise there isn't much to be reported, since I was felinely occupied during the weekend. Irene and I were invited yesterday to Slavica and her family's 1 May barbecue, which was lovely and all kinds of sinfully yummy, and the company was great. Apart from Rakia and cigarettes I also gave her the good news that she doesn't have to work this week (better leave the cats alone during the day while they're still in separate territories). Once I've found the appropriate words I'll write a eulogy of the cake she made, which contained a cream that cream-hating me actually liked, and such fat-laden healthy things as nuts and dates.