Sufficiently “loaded” with kitty tranquilizers, the 140-mile trip south with the cat went off without a hitch. Stanley slept or “meditated” with his eyes half open most of the time and only fussed at me when the Marc Cohn CD I had been playing reached it’s end. Seriously folks, he squeaked and squeaked at me when the music stopped and I had no idea why given that he’d been so relaxed the entire trip.
The only thing that was different (near as I could tell) was that my Marc Cohn music had stopped. So just for grins I started the disc over again and like magic… he laid down his furry, little head and went back to sleep. A-MA-ZING. Who knew Marc Cohn had such an impact on critters of the feline variety?
I’ve moved a million times (with a cat in tow) and have read a million and one times that it is well advised to introduce your kitty to their new environment a little at a time. Like… a ROOM at a time. Well, given that this is the first time Lee has ever had a pet in his house, I didn’t feel like doing all of the corraling and tip-toeing and Ooo!! Watch out for the cat-ing. So I just decided to wing it and let him OUT of his carrier to explore his new surroundings as he so desired.
Yep. That idea was genius. I zipped open the carrier, he went straight to the basement and wedged himself tightly in a corner between an old bed and two walls as though a tornado were headed this way. Oops. Maybe I should have done the room-by-room thing after all?
I did manage to cajole him out of his fox hole with some food, smooth talk and a little petting. I mean, he is male. And he HAS come up to the main floor at least once or twice to do a little recon… and for more food. So I know we’ll get there… eventually. However, I can’t help but feel like some wicked stepmother whose has locked her child away in the basement like Cinderella. But, he’s using his litter box, eating, drinking and venturing upstairs on the occasional intel-gathering, Black Ops mission… so what more can I ask for at this point, right?
Besides Stanley’s assimilation to the new habitat, I had one other major concern. Due to the floor plan of the house, it was necessary for us to install a cat door in an interior door from the kitchen leading down to the basement where his litter box is located. Stanley has never had to deal with a cat door or any closed door for that matter. So the question has loomed large for over a month as to whether or not he would learn how to utilize this contraption in order to “do his business” in the appointed area.
Well… the one good thing that has come out of this giving-him-the-run-of-the-place faux pas is that his great affinity for the basement — and sheer, blind terror of anything non-basement related, has inadvertently caused him to learn how to use his little cat door as he desperately flies through it every… single… time I haul or coax his fluffy ass up the stairs. I guess if history has taught us anything it is that fear can be an excellent motivator.
Woman In Thrisis 
We have a doggie door for our dog to go outside. Our cat, Ellie, was scared to death of it when we first put it in. She hated the noice it made when our dog went in and out. Now she loves it. It’s an easy escape route for her. 🙂
Yes, I hope that he continues to be OK with it. So far today it seemed to spook him a little at the idea of going through it. At least he knows he can. Thanks for visiting! I can’t wait to check out your blog 🙂
Love the pic!
Reminds me of when I brought home my psychotic feline, Gandalf (the Grey). First thing he did was find the hole under the corner of where 2 cabinets meet in the upstairs bathroom and yowl from in there when he couldn’t figure out how to get out! We actually had to tear that corner of cabinetry apart to retrieve him. That’s one of many stories he’s generated, needless to say!
Thanks Sarah 🙂 Yes, that picture was irresistible. I HAD to use it! Sorry you had to take actually furniture apart to get your cat out! Yikes!
Poor Stanley 😦
Best photo ever.
When we moved, it was to a much larger house with a family room downstairs. We turned the cats loose and didn’t see them for a week. But they adjusted eventually.
That is sooo good to know. Thank you for sharing. This is the biggest house that he has ever lived in and so I think the space is overwhelming to him. We even have several doors closed too.
OMG – love the photo – like he is in the kitty stockade:) Your Stanley loves to chill to the music and glad to hear the trip went well. Have a Great Day:)
I know! I LOVED that photo. I couldn’t resist using it when I saw it online. I can’t take credit for anything but finding it 🙂
This is just laugh-out-loud funny. Poor Stan. The picture is PURR…FECT! :O)
Esp. liked the tornado drill that he was practicing…and the fact that the “cat door” is not a problem after all! I am sure Lee is loving the drama that has arrived full force!
If Stan needs a vacation away from his “wicked step-mother”, he can always come see his loving G-Ma.
Thanks G-Ma! I am happy to say that he has graduated from the basement and is now roaming around the main floor. He has gone from his basement bunker to under the bed so that is progress! AND… just now as I was doing yoga he flopped down right next to me belly up 😀
When we first moved from the middle of nowwhere into town I tried to bring all of the stray cats that hung out by putting them in the trunk if I remember right. Maybe it was in the car with me and the kids, can’t remember. Well it didn’t work. I had to turn around and let them all go. I was so sad.
WOW! Now THAT would have been interesting to see 😀 It would have been sad too, don’t get me wrong, b/c you get so attached to them even if they are strays but sometimes things are better off as they were I suppose. Hopefully you guys got a pet once you were in town?
I had an incident with some stray cats I had been palling around with for six months. It was a fiasco. 😦
Wild cats definitely don’t trust anyone.
Heh-heh. You might have the only cat who is a Marc Cohn fan.
Yeah, strays are tough b/c they probably will never trust anyone. Stanley was adopted from a shelter as an “adult” cat (probably 1-2 years old) so obviously they found him on the streets but he was so friendly and loved attention and calm and trusting that I think he must have been someone’s pet. I often wonder if there is a family out there somewhere who is missing him… But I’m also glad he’s mine 🙂