The Moving Diaries: What the Cats Think

Today we culled and boxed the books from the library, a herculean task that took hours and has left us with boxes to be moved, boxes to be donated, boxes to be recycled, and empty shelves. And one very unsure cat. (Mind you, we have two cats, but more about that in a bit.)

She is sitting in boxes, sitting in empty shelves, watching every move, stalking around investigating everything. The last time we boxed up all these books, we were renovating…and then half-way through that summer I had major surgery, and returned to be in bed much of each day for a few weeks – something she thought was the ideal way to spend time. Is she remembering that? Or is she remembering being cloistered in the attic for most of each day while we wall-papered and panelled and painted? Whatever is going on in her little black and white head, she knows something is different, and she’s not sure she likes it.

Pye, a.k.a. Fur-for-Brains, on the other hand, is oblivious. Completely and utterly oblivious. As long as her favourite chair is there, and she can sit on BD’s lap while he watches football (soccer), or on my ankles when I sit on the couch in the evening, she’s happy.

As I write Pyxel is sitting in the lid of one box with her head inside another, wondering whatever cat brains wonder. I know she’s upset, because she’s given up on almost all her routines, and this is a cat who lived by routines. She’ll be the one at the new house who will hide, and come out tentatively, creeping out to peek around corners and plaintively meow at us. Pye will be unhappy, but her need for human companionship and contact will outweigh the scariness of a new place. At least, that’s my guess. I’ll let you know in mid June.

Meanwhile, we’ll keep filling boxes, and living in almost-controlled chaos. The new house has had the electrician in to move services (are all electricians garrulous? I was there with him over six hours and I swear I heard his entire life story and much more…a nice man, but could he talk!), and the broken baseboards and the horribly-installed quarter-round replaced by the renovation crew. The painter starts Monday. We move on June 8th. I haven’t started screaming, yet. Bets on when I start?

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