Packing with cats
Maddie, while she's never peed on anything except cat litter, is equally adept at turning the guilt screws. She'll wander in while I'm packing, look from suitcase to me, give a mournful little chirrup, and then run from the room. Beezle has the same M.O., but substitute the chirrup with the feline equivalent of a stricken expression. Mouche hides under the bed, while Foster...well, he just purrs and rolls on his back to get his tummy rubbed, good natured sumo-kitty that he is. He knows I'll be back. And in the meantime, sleep is good and there will always be someone around to rub his belly. Life is very simple for Foster. No fear of abandonment going on in his bobble brain.
Mouche, Maddie and Beezle now...they get upset if I'm in a different room. Their favorite game is to go into the stairwell and cry mournfully until I call their name (yes, I can tell their meows apart). Then whoever is the culprit will come running at top speed to find me, as if they had NO idea that I was in the bedroom or living room. Even though they'd just seen me five minutes earlier. I think they might just like the way the sound of their voices echo in the stairwell.
I'm off to San Diego for the weekend for some surfing with Jim, to celebrate the holidays with Mom & Bill, and hang out with Maureen. We plan on eating our way through our favorite haunts in La Jolla in celebration of our birthdays. I have a bottle of very good Bliss Cabernet Sauvignan to share. I'm hoping to see my new niece. Mom is making homemade tacos for dinner. Dave is coming with me and I know I'll have a good time. And when I get home, I know I'll find all five cats in a pile on the bed, happy to see me and content with life, until the next time I pull out that evil suitcase...
And in the meantime, if anyone knows how to get the small of cat pee out of leather...I'm open to suggestions.