The Plague Diaries: Prep 'n' Stuff (With Cats)
With the decision made to sell the house, we set about prepping the place. This was Monday.
First, I ruled unilaterally that the cats had to go to Albion. People are ALWAYS put off when they tour a house with animals in it. It doesn't matter how nice they are, or how understanding, or how animal-loving. They always put back their whiskers and think, "Hm! Pet damage. Surprise smells. Hm!" So Dinah and Dora had to go.
Fortunately, we have a place to put them: the house in Albion. But . . .
Dora the Meatloaf was a teensy kitten when we first got her. Dinah was 18 months old when she arrived here four years ago. Neither of them remember anyplace but this house, and they've never set a paw beyond its boundaries except for rare trips to the vet. This was going to be a challenging time for them.
Unfortunately, we didn't have time to make it easier. Normally, I would have set out the cat carriers (we had to run out and buy a second one) with treats inside every day for a week so that they'd become normal, trusted parts of the house. But we decided Friday to list the house, and the cats had to be gone by the time the house went on the market early the following week. I sighed, and went to it.
Dora didn't take to being put in the carrier well at all. She fought and hissed and screeched and literally shit herself. I felt bad for her, but there was nothing for it. Dinah was more Zen about going into her carrier, at least. She hunkered down inside with an air of nervous resignation.
Max and I also loaded up all the cat stuff--three cat trees, litter box, food dispenser, toys, the whole lot--and drove to Albion. Both cats set up yowling. For the entire 90-minute drive. It was not fun for anyone.
At the house in Albion, we opened the carriers and half expected the cats to refuse to budge. But they bounded out and gingerly set about exploring this impossible, strange new place. All these stairs! A basement with many nooks and crannies! Different bedrooms! Different view out the windows! But familiar furniture. And familiar people. And familiar food. (This last was clearly most important to Dora.) There was much careful slinking. Dora finally settled on staying in the basement and only making brief forays upward, while Dinah quickly took to admiring the new outside view. For the first time in their lives, Things Have Changed.
Max and I had to go back the same day in order to prep the house, so we left Darwin in charge of the cats. He later reported that they were adjusting well. Dora made it up to the kitchen and flopped on her back to demand petting. Dinah claimed the sofa as her own.
So that was taken care of.
Meanwhile, Max and I headed back home to start prepping the house.
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First, I ruled unilaterally that the cats had to go to Albion. People are ALWAYS put off when they tour a house with animals in it. It doesn't matter how nice they are, or how understanding, or how animal-loving. They always put back their whiskers and think, "Hm! Pet damage. Surprise smells. Hm!" So Dinah and Dora had to go.
Fortunately, we have a place to put them: the house in Albion. But . . .
Dora the Meatloaf was a teensy kitten when we first got her. Dinah was 18 months old when she arrived here four years ago. Neither of them remember anyplace but this house, and they've never set a paw beyond its boundaries except for rare trips to the vet. This was going to be a challenging time for them.
Unfortunately, we didn't have time to make it easier. Normally, I would have set out the cat carriers (we had to run out and buy a second one) with treats inside every day for a week so that they'd become normal, trusted parts of the house. But we decided Friday to list the house, and the cats had to be gone by the time the house went on the market early the following week. I sighed, and went to it.
Dora didn't take to being put in the carrier well at all. She fought and hissed and screeched and literally shit herself. I felt bad for her, but there was nothing for it. Dinah was more Zen about going into her carrier, at least. She hunkered down inside with an air of nervous resignation.
Max and I also loaded up all the cat stuff--three cat trees, litter box, food dispenser, toys, the whole lot--and drove to Albion. Both cats set up yowling. For the entire 90-minute drive. It was not fun for anyone.
At the house in Albion, we opened the carriers and half expected the cats to refuse to budge. But they bounded out and gingerly set about exploring this impossible, strange new place. All these stairs! A basement with many nooks and crannies! Different bedrooms! Different view out the windows! But familiar furniture. And familiar people. And familiar food. (This last was clearly most important to Dora.) There was much careful slinking. Dora finally settled on staying in the basement and only making brief forays upward, while Dinah quickly took to admiring the new outside view. For the first time in their lives, Things Have Changed.
Max and I had to go back the same day in order to prep the house, so we left Darwin in charge of the cats. He later reported that they were adjusting well. Dora made it up to the kitchen and flopped on her back to demand petting. Dinah claimed the sofa as her own.
So that was taken care of.
Meanwhile, Max and I headed back home to start prepping the house.
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