Home is where the kitten is.

It got lonely over at the new house. I have cable and the internets, video games and even a few places to sit and surfaces to put stuff on. (And a lot of boxes.) But there was something missing… something soft and furry. I kept going back to the other house at bedtime every night–I wasn’t ready to sleep here without my kitten.

So tonight I packed up all her things: the cat tree, the scratching posts, her food dish and litter box. Last night B and I put the windowseat up in the lab so she can look out over the shady backyard and watch the lizards running up and down the trees. She saw her stuff going into the car, and her carrier come out so she ran and hid under the bed. She protested briefly, but went into her crate without incident and sat pretty quietly for the ride out.

Since then, she’s been an unstoppable sniffing force, investigating every corner and closet. She’s discovering her own sacred spots–so far, the top of the ottoman from S and S, the purple plush cushion (which is under the window seat that she’s only eyed dubiously so far), and the floor by my feet where ever I sit down. I’ve unpacked a few boxes that were marked “+1 cat,” which means they contain cat toys. I just hope I don’t see the big fake mousie and mistake it for the real thing in the middle of the night.

At the moment, she’s snoozing in the purple plush and seems content with her new lot in life. And now it does feel like I live here. Though I’m looking forward to a real bed something fierce.

2 responses to “Home is where the kitten is.”

  1. Kath Says:

    I keep packing and unpacking the box marked 1 Cat (f). It makes me laugh every time.

  2. bascha Says:

    Yeah, I decided not to pack her in an actual box, and used the carrier instead. She seemed to appreciate the air holes. Hee!

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