Today was the day of the Big Move – for both my Mother and her semi-wild cat, named Gray Baby. The cat had spent its past few days in mother’s bedroom along with, of course, food, water, and a litter box. The question I’d had all along was how are we going to move the thing? El and Mother both had repeatedly told me that she’s fast and mean. She has seemed to have an affinity for mom, and allows her to pet her. What’s always scared me is that she gives others no indication when she’s going to strike.
I’d previously talked with people here about what to do about moving Gray Baby in a safe and expedient fashion. I’d decided that we could crate train her – say, get a large dog crate, take the top
off, and put her food in it. And then when she got used to it, put the lid on, and repeat procedure. It’s a TTeam thing. However, El nixed this idea, the main reason being that she didn’t have the time to spend doing all this. Also, the cat would be adverse to eating food that had ants crawling about its food area.
So I decided to go along with the program, which (as it appeared) would involve picking the cat up, putting her in a cardboard cat carrier, and taking her over to the new place. However, I did have my reservations, having recently heard of someone who lost a finger after a cat bit her.
And this was a very unhappy cat. Its mews had turned to yowls, which were ongoing. Every so often El would go into the room and talk to her. I continued to clean.
Mid-day – Eleanor said “it’s time.” Mother was with. We marched into the room. Mom sat on the bed frame and coerced the cat into coming out from under the
remaining blankets. The cat didn’t purr, but sat between El and mom. Finally, El picked up the cat, slipped her into the box, and sealed the lid. I did not think that cat could yowl any louder than previously, but it did.
Cat and mother sat in the back seat of the car. We made it to the Basilica in record time. We entered said apartment, and then released the cat, who shot under the new bed and box spring. In short order, she came out, tail up, and began sniffing around. The cat must have liked the new place, because her attitude was different. She was calmer, and a lot happier.
Mother, who hadn’t seen the place, also liked it. The second floor apartment is bright, sunny, has a large tree outside her window. It’s a far cry from the old place, which while convenient, was skanky.
No time to celebrate though. El and I had to go back and dismantle the old bed. There was no sense in moving it – as El said, “It’s a piece of shit.” So, back to the old place we went. Once there, El took care of some other things while I proceeded to do what I do so well – tear apart the old frame. I really hove into it, bashing it apart with a hammer. It felt good, that is until I hit my shin with the hammer. No matter, I continued busting the thing up, and then when done, put the pieces in the closet. El said that the landlord will cart them away.
After, I swept the room and then called it good. El and I then headed back to the Basilica, where mother was resting on the bed, the cat by her side.