I know, I know… for crying out loud when is the moving going to be DONE already? At least a few of you readers may be asking that question as I use this post to report that one, final trip must be made to gather the remainder of my things from my old house to bring them to the new one.
One of the items I need to collect is my Keurig coffee maker that I carelessly left behind. I have been without it for over a week and would be experiencing withdrawals were it not for the Starbucks right across the street. But the most important thing I left behind last week that I absolutely MUST return to fetch would be Stanley, the cat.
Poor Stanley has been living it up at my parents’ house where he is utterly and obscenely spoiled. In fact, I’m certain that after seven days he is certain that I’ve abandoned him and am no longer his human. He is probably operating under the false assumption that my parents are now his rightful slaves.
I’m afraid he has no idea how his world is about to be rocked.
Anyone who owns a cat or is owned by a cat (the latter probably being more accurately stated) knows that they are not fans of change. ANY kind of change. So, while I AM looking forward to having him with me in my new home… I am NOT looking forward to the production of bringing him to it. And IT WILL BE a dramatic production.
He will cry and cry and cry (even though he is mute he still makes the most pathetic, airy, squeaky sound you ever heard) until he is exhausted because he HATES riding in the car. And the crying will make me feel bad and I will worry myself into a frenzy.
Upon arrival at his new pad, he will slink around, belly to the ground, for a day and a half sniffing everything in sight and looking terrified. Around day two or three he should be relatively chill about the whole thing and find a nice place to sleep it off for the next three days where he’ll either reluctantly accept his new fate or plot some sort of revenge.
My only hope are the “herbal” calming chews that my father bought for Stanley at Christmas. I’ve given them to him before and it really does chill him out… This is, of course, assuming he doesn’t just eat around the chews—when I hide them in his food in order to trick him—or try to trick ME by pretending to eat them and then spit them out when I’m not looking.
Wish us luck and if all goes smoothly… I’ll live to write about it. And of course… OF COURSE I’ll be
subjecting you sharing it with you just as soon as possible upon our return.
5 thoughts on “Fetching Stanley… and the Keurig”
It never hurts to get a sedative for the cat so that you don’t need it yourself. When we made our interstate move many years ago, I thought we lose our minds on the trip. The cat NEVER. STOPPED. CRYING. And neither did I.
Hope it all goes smoothly and he hasn’t emancipated himself and adopted your parents.
Stanley has been the perfect guest, as always. He loves being where we are, esp. in the evenings and nights. But I KNOW he misses you because he hasn’t gone running through the house like he does for you. He just eats, sleeps, and wants attention…kind of like me now that I have retired.
Oh no poor kitty. He sure is pretty. I hope the ride goes smoothly. I can just imagine the stress going that far. The trip down the street to the vet isn’t so great with my cat. At least you aren’t getting on a plane with him like that woman whose cat escaped and got into the cockpit.
I smiled all the way through this one. Thanks for posting it.