Today was 'the day of the dance'. About once a month, my son "Paul" goes to a weekend respite, it gives both of us a rest from each other. Unfortunately, the cat, "Scary" knows she is his cat, not mine. She wants to know where he is at all times, and after four years, she hasn't figured out that he returns from these visits.
Every time Paul pulls out his duffel bag to pack, Scary crawls in, at first it was with feline stealth, but lately, she will dive in. Removing her from the depths of the bag is usually a struggle. I tried to pack around her, but she just crawls further in the depths of the bag. We will let her stay in for awhile, but the time usually comes when she has to be physically removed from the bag! Claws out! Clinging to the ends of the bag! That's Paul's job, not mine!
The last few months, we have taken to putting the bag out in the morning of 'packing day' she will then jump in, although this morning, she sniffed around it, and tested several avenues of entry, before finally climbing in. After she has calmed to the idea of it being in the living room , usually by late afternoon, it is free for us to start packing. Today, although she had left the bag, we still had to contend with her close supervision of the whole event.
The weekend continues with a depressed cat, culminating with the 'joyful return', well; as close as it gets with a cool cat; on Sunday evening!
See you tomorrow!
1 comment:
Your depressed cat will soon perk right up when Paul comes home later this afternoon! It is said that it's a cat's life, nine lives and all! That means....they get to do what they want!
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