We made it to Cupertino, though it’s been a trial. I’m back on the air, but we still haven’t found Flo’s computer, and it looks as though it went to storage. It wasn’t supposed to, but lots of things like that have happened. It’s still possible that it will show up. Things are seldom where you would expect them to be. Moving again at our stage in life had to be madness! Of course, we sort of had to do something about that huge house anyway….
Now we have to sell our house and buy another, then move again.
I think moving, especially if you’ve been in one place for a while, is one of those things that totally validate the term ‘present perfect.’ “What’s so perfect about the present perfect?” I used to think, but then I realized that there are some things (like moving) that are hell to do, but are perfect to have done.
When I try to imagine moving from this place, which we’ve been in for more than fifteen years, dread leads me rapidly to the ‘light a match and run’ type of scenario.
How is the cat? Is the cat there yet? If the cat is fine and funny then everything else becomes bearable.
Thanks! We thought of that kind of scenario too, several times.
Ah, the basket helped I’m SURE. She certainly looks at home!
A long time ago, when I had a cat, I had to move four times in a year. All of these places were in the same(ish) neighbourhood. (A couple of bays around, in most cases – I was living by the sea.) The cat used to sleep on my bed, and each time I moved, as soon as I made the bed he’d sniff it carefully, making sure the bedspread smelt and felt just right. Then he’d disappear for a day or two. When he came back, he’d usually have a new rip in his ear, from establishing his territory, I guess. He’d make a beeline for the bed, have a very long nap, and after that all would be fine.
The fourth time I moved he figured out a way to make the local cats leap off the balcony, and didn’t get any new rips in his ears. I think he did it by mistake the first time. He was chased to the end of the balcony, and stopped suddenly when he remembered the long drop at the end (the balcony started flush to the hill but the other end was pretty high off the ground – it was a steep hill). The other cat flew off the end, landing noisily in a tree. But the next two times I’m SURE he did it on purpose. That was three times in ONE EVENING. I’ve never had a cat put on such wonderful after dinner entertainment as that evening – I had friends around, and we were admiring the view from the big windows. It was funny enough the first time Jonathan raced past with another cat after him and screeched to a halt (and then peered off the end of the balcony to watch the other cat crash). By the third time we were howling.
People say cats can’t learn, but I reckon if a new trick is interesting enough and funny enough they’ll learn it really fast.
(chuckle) I have lots of proof that cats can learn, if they care to. Now I have another bit to add to the collection. People who think that the don’t just haven’t looked very hard. What you do have to understand is that cats look at things differently. You think that you are training her to stay off the table. She thinks that you just don’t like to see her on the table, so she gets upset if you sneak in and catch her there. You should have given some warning that you were coming, so she could do what you wanted and get down in time for you not to see her there.
Actually, this behavior may not be confined to cats.