From the Melville Cat: Move? What Move?

From the Melville Cat:

Heather asked me to write a blog post this weekend. Apparently my fans have been asking her about my wellbeing. She says they want to hear the full story of our move from my perspective.

My initial response was, “What move?”

We moved? I had quite forgotten about that.

Then I thought some more and yes, I vaguely recall this. I used to live somewhere else, perhaps a month or two ago. I remember now that I was very hesitant to leave that place.

I’m not sure why.

But I musn’t disappoint my loyal fans. I will recount the moving story to the best of my recollection.

The story begins on a Saturday. Heather woke up early but she did not open the window for me to go outside, as she usually does. Instead she loaded me into my crate and carried me to to the doorway of the Lucky 5 Star. Before she carried me out the door, she put my crate down and walked to the other room. I think she was crying.

When she returned to the doorway, Heather said, “Kitty, this is the last time we’ll be together in this house.” She seemed very sad. I wished to be released from my crate.

Heather carried my crate to the car. I soon realized where we were headed: that horrible place called the vet.

At the vet, I was deposited into a cage. Heather regarded me from outside the cage.

“You’ll be more comfortable here during the move,” she told me. “I’ll be back to get you on Monday.”

How rude.

I can’t remember much about my stay at the vet. It was excruciatingly boring, albeit warm and comfortable. After an interminably long time – days, it seemed, although time almost ceased to exist – Heather returned and I was loaded back into my crate.

“We’re going home now!” Heather told me. I hardly cared.

After a short drive, Heather carried my crate into a place that smelled funny. Ray was there. They opened my crate and I sprang out – there was catnip! For a moment I thought of nothing but that delicious, pungent herb, a pile of which was waiting for me on my heated pad. I pounced and licked and felt deliciously dizzy for a few moments.

Heather and Ray wanted to record my first moments in the new house. I did not care because there was catnip.

I looked around and had no idea where I was. My blue rug was there, and my heated pad, but nothing else was familiar. I paced the length of the small room. Window, desk, chair, blanket, litter box. My mind whirled.

Heather and Ray petted me for a while, then left. I meowed, and meowed some more. I climbed onto the chair and burrowed into the blankets. I was morose.

I stayed this way for many hours.

I sat on the chair. I sat on the mat. I ate. I slept. I looked through the window, but what I saw beyond it didn’t make sense. Heather and Ray sometimes gave me catnip. The days passed in a fog.

In some ways I enjoyed it – sitting in this small room and gazing into space. My mind was blank.

One evening, Heather opened the door to my room and did not close it again. I crept out slowly, crouched close to the floor, nostrils and ears open. The tiles were cold under my paws. Chair legs, table legs, wood and carpet and paint. I crawled under the bed and back out again. I was almost grateful when Heather returned me to my familiar-smelling room.

I spent several more days exploring this strange house. I settled onto a pillow on top of the couch. I looked outside at what appeared to be infinite green leaves and browsing birds. I was bewildered.

My best spot in the house.

Sometimes I saw Heather and Ray outside. I wondered when or if I would ever go out there myself.

Finally, finally, Heather slid open a door and looked at me. I looked back. She did not run out the door and quickly close it behind her, as I expected. I approached the threshold, sniffed the air, and stepped out.

My first moment outside.

There’s a huge hole in the ground, filled with water. The water looks pretty but tastes terrible. I don’t understand this.

Ahhhhhhhhh. Leaves.

There’s water flowing under this rock!

I was only allowed to roam for a few minutes and Heather followed me everywhere. The next day I was permitted to go out longer, and even longer the day after that.

I quickly learned to climb. Climbing was my ticket to freedom.

Climbing a tree allowed me to reach this trellis, which led me to the roof, where no one could catch me and make me come back inside.

I showed you this photo in my previous post: me on the roof with my new friend White. White and I have an uneasy relationship – we quarrel sometimes – but we tolerate one another. I’m more fond of my other new cat-friend, Black, who is a jolly, long-haired chap. Black and I get on well together although Heather hasn’t captured a photo of him yet.

My new domain is glorious. I have trees and flowers and rocks to frolic over, hedges to crawl under, and waterfalls to drink from. I have my own room in the spacious new house. I agreed to let Heather share my room and use it as her office. I often doze on my chair while Heather writes.

I have all that I need. I am happy.

I am so happy that I’ve decided to make life easy for Heather and Ray. I haven’t murdered a single bird, or spent a night out roaming the neighborhood. I haven’t gotten into fights, resulting in injuries and expensive medical bills. I haven’t bothered to christen the new house with my man-cat scent, as I did in my previous home.

I keep Heather and Ray on their toes by rising each night between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. and howling at the top of my lungs, just to let them know that I’m still in charge. Heather banishes me to my room when I do this, but I do not care.

Life is splendid. Please excuse me while I romp into the trees. Good day.

The Melville Cat, in flight.