Because that’s what I’m all about, aren’t I? A Complete Crazy Old Cat Lady. But there it is. Anyway, earlier in the month I suggested to Kevin that we see how it’d be if we gave Pumpkin to Mom. I’d suggested this a long time ago and he put the kabosh on that, because we love Pumpkin and want to keep him.
But time marches on, and Pumpkin had continued to live his life mostly alone upstairs except when we’d visit him three times a day. Yeah yeah yeah, friends said, that was fine, he had a good life, much better than other cats’ lives, blah blah blah…but we finally decided we’d give it a try, moving him to Mom’s.
She had been hoping for a cat since her cat Hobbs died back in May but I told her that she couldn’t have a young cat because if it outlived her, we can’t have any more cats because we’re way beyond full up. But suddenly it made sense to us; Pumpkin loves and adores all humans and hates and deplores all cats, so maybe it’d work if he lived with Mom. And if things went bottoms-up, we could bring him back.
On the 17th we took him over along with his litter box and a scratching post and many many toys and things. His first reaction was, pretty much, mellowness. He spent a lot of time exploring, but then he just stretched out on Mom’s living room carpet. Home at last, I’m home at last, he seemed to be saying. Here he is with Mom and one of his ping pong balls, which he can’t get enough of but can’t ever have enough because they are constantly getting lost.
I took his “Hey Pumpkin” pillow over, of course, and as you can see he was quite pleased about that.
He loves walking all around the whole house and getting in Mom’s face to be petted, and licking the top of her head, and one night Mom said that she heard all kinds of noised in the night, and he’d jumped up on her very tall dresser and pushed quite a few things off. I think this is funny because there are always cartoons about cats doing this, but we’ve never had one who did.
Here he is last night at about three in the morning, snuggled on the couch in back of Mom, who stayed up very late and I know that he loves to be with her a lot. Night owls together.
It’s so good for everybody – Mom is ecstatic, Pumpkin is over the moon, and Kevin and I don’t have to go upstairs to entertain Pumpkin three times a day. Actually, in the morning Kevin would be up there and Pumpkin would mostly lie on his lap purring, but when I was there for the next two shifts, Pumpkin would like to be petted a bit but never sat on my lap, plus he’d wander off into the other bedroom and I’d have to follow him around.
I’m just so happy about it all, mostly because both Mom and Pumpkin have each other. So…now only six cats! Barely any. I realize I don’t really miss Pumpkin because he’s only a two-minute walk away, plus he’s so happy, plus I spent a lot of time feeling guilty that he was all alone upstairs. I’d thought that we couldn’t give him away to somebody because he sprayed on pee pads taped to a dresser, and nobody would want him.
I’m happy to say that he’s not doing any of that at Mom’s, because he’s in such a good place.
Meanwhile…I’ve wanted to accomplish so very many things over the weekend but it didn’t happen as usual. I did spend some time cleaning the floor of the front hall closet, and why did I devote an hour of my life to that?
Well, for one thing, I was trying to find the mates for the five single black gloves I have, and one single red one. I mean, do other people have that many missing gloves? I doubt it.
I did find the other red one, but they’re a pair of very old gloves that I just use for working outside, and what on earth happened to those five other gloves?
Anyway, I’m pretty sure I’ve never cleaned the floor of the front hall closet and man was that apparent once I’d dragged many pairs of shoes and other detritus out of there. It was very very dirty. And instead of finding even one single matching glove, instead I found another single one. That’ll teach me to clean every seventeen years.
How is it possible that we’ve been here that long? When am I going to paint our bedroom? I’ve been meaning to do it ever since we moved in, and now it’s seventeen years later.
But seriously, I am happy that a tiny bit of filth is gone from the house, but nobody is ever going to notice, so I guess if anybody comes over I’ll have to show them. Except you can’t tell that all the dirt and dust and piles of leaves are gone from the floor because the shoes and stuff are piled up again, albeit very neatly for this one little moment in time.
It’s always something. Plus it warmed up a little yesterday and I went for a run for the first time since Jan. 2nd, and its’ going to warm up again this week so more running, yay for that! Slow jogging of course…I can’t believe how many pictures I took this month because it seems that January is typically a slow photo month.
Ok then,
Mrs. really really almost the end of January Hughes.