Wednesday, April 11, 2018

gone, cats, gone


Princess - I mean Annie -
knew something was different
the moment I walked into the room.
I had set about removing the dishes
from the canned meals yesterday.
Then I had removed the food bowls,
with food still in them...
and had not put out any fresh food.

Annie had entered the pet carrier
as soon as I had opened it.
Surprisingly, the problem cat -
that would be daredevil Elton -
went willingly into this crate,
following a trail of treats.
I had to give him a push so I could
secure the tricky door, but I succeeded.

Docile, 'fraidy cat Champ was the one
that put up the most resistance.
He refused to come out from the open corner
behind the "L" of the huge computer desk,
not even for treats.
However, as soon as I sat down, he came out
hoping for petting and was easily steered
into the last crate, nibbling treats
as I pushed him and his tabby stripes inside.

That was about twelve minutes ago.
I had just finished bagging their stuff and crating them when Ed arrived.
I had told him on Monday that they needed to go.
He had just shown up to pay their rent - he still owes for this past week - and had no time to spend with them, as he had a doctor appointment.
He had not spent any time at all with them since a half-hour visit on the Saturday before Easter.
Prior to that, he had skipped out on them for seven days.
That's two visits with them over a seventeen-day span.
There were no inquiring phone calls or texts about them, either.
So, when he had showed up just to drop off money, something in me snapped.
"The cats need to leave on Wednesday," I told him. "My best friend is coming and I can't even use two rooms in my house. I need to get the stuff out of the guest room and make room for her and I can't do that with the cats here."
To my amazement, he didn't even try to plead their case.
He just assured me that he would be here for them at 2 PM on moving day.

And, to his credit, he was.
He had told me he was taking them to a shelter, but then he said he was taking them back to the vet's to be boarded.
I don't care where he is actually taking them.
I helped him load the crates into his car and their meager belongings into his trunk.
Then I waved goodbye and closed my door.

Now, I am going to try to rid the room of the smell of urine and manure.
I am going to try to sweep up as much cat hair as I can before I bring in the vacuum.
Some room deodorizer will still be needed, I'm sure.
I'm throwing out the heavy plastic chair mat that the litter boxes have been on, as it is ruined from stray body fluids.
A new set of blinds will have to be purchased for the front window, thanks to Elton's claws.
Every piece of furniture will need to be cleaned of fluffy orange fur.
And as for the carpet... Honestly, I don't think it can be cleaned.
I'm hoping the money collected for the cats' rent will cover my losses.
Please wish me luck.

1 comment:

the Universe said...

3:36 AM

Please, Faustina, don't be afraid. Not even a little. Not ever. The lions and tigers and bears can't really hurt you. You live in a world of smoke and mirrors where there's only the illusion that you could somehow become less than the greatest you've ever imagined yourself to be.

And it's this very image, the highest from within you, that’s summoned your boldest dreams, daring you into the light with their promised rewards and drawing you through the very fears that have kept you from it.

Slayer of dragons. Matador of all time and space. Rightful heir to heaven on earth. Don't be afraid. Not even a little.

Amen,
The Universe