It’s been more than a few months since I last visited my blog. Somewhere between looking for a new home, cringing at a presidential nominee whose emotional and intellectual capabilities seem to hover at the lowest bar we’ve ever witnessed (quick, where’s my all’s-right-with-the-world quilt so I can hide beneath it?) and packing, things had to get prioritized.
Just me, coloring outside the lines lost out.
However, now that I have moved in to the new casa, unpacked and hung the paintings, I am home once again. Even BlackJack, the cat, is happy. And you know what they say, a happy cat is a happy home. Or something like that.
I have to say, this was a bit of a traumatic move for the cat. He loved our former home. As the mountain of packed boxes grew taller, BlackJack grew increasingly morose. It was not like him. I realized just how upset he was when, just prior to The Move, I had returned from carting some boxes to the new house and turned down our very steep Driveway from Hell (think the first twisting drop of your favorite roller coaster and that approximates the driveway).
BlackJack never ventured up the drive; it was simply too steep and there was so much to see on the other side of the house. But there he was, trudging up the driveway, head hung low. I stopped the car at the bottom of the hill and called out to him.
He paused, mid-step, thought for a moment before responding and then slowly looked back over his shoulder, dramatically milking the moment for all he could and shooting me a look of pure disgust as if to say, You go. Do what you want. I’m staying here.
At that moment I realized BlackJack may well be more thoughtful than the current GOP presidential candidate. I also realized that immediate action was needed, or the cat was indeed staying put.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I turned the car around, drove back up the Driveway from Hell, stopped, got out and called for the cat. Fortunately, he’s been more or less trained as a dog so he begrudgingly came when I called for him. I picked him up and plopped him in the front seat of the car.
This was a new experience for BlackJack, being in a car and not in the despised cat carrier. At first, he just looked at me like I had forgotten something, but then he realized there was a whole new world just beyond the window. He sat up straight, looked out the side window, then the front window, turned and grinned at me. He was quickly buying into our new adventure.
Two miles beyond the soon-to-be-old home and Driveway from Hell, was our soon-to-be-new home with a straight, flat driveway on the opposite side of the lake. We turned into the drive and drove right into the garage, where I scooped up BlackJack and carried him into our new home.
He scampered from room to room, checking out the new digs, before finding a box in front of the large living room window and an expansive view of the lake. He jumped up and stood, transfixed at the view. I forgot that the cat had never before seen a lake. I wondered if he knew about the plethora of fish that were just waiting to be caught.
Three days later, The Move was completed and BlackJack is one happy cat. He immediately became best friends with two neighborhood cats, and together, they seem to have formed a Cat Pack, racing among the deer, geese and wild turkeys along the fringes of the golf course in the back, visiting each other’s homes or lounging on the front deck and gazing at the lake shimmering across the street.
Happy cat, happy home.