So we’re moving. Our big house is turning into a jumble of half-packed boxes, emptied drawers, rolled up rugs, and disassembled furniture. This is of course a tremendous opportunity for Alex and me. We are maximizing our fun. But it is a bittersweet process.We are excited about our new home on Long Island – the little house. Alex has lived there before, so she feels like it is home. We all stayed there for a couple months last fall while our people made the decisions that will take us back. During that time, I came to like the little house a great deal, especially the fireplace and the room with all the windows, and I am intrigued by the proximity of the beach. The water there is salty! Alex has seen a seal in it! Deer are cool too. We have lots of deer in Wisconsin but they don’t come into the yard. They have better things to do…and much more space.
Having said that, we are going to miss our staircase, with its wide red cedar railing, enormously. We run up and down it jumping recklessly across empty space. Alex loves the big closets and the endless hiding places of our basement. And there is something about a maple floor, I’ve found, that is particularly conducive to prolonged sliding after a burst of running – oak just isn’t the same.
We will miss our human neighbors and friends. I am fond of Les and Vicki…they always smell like horse, and Scott and his family who live with Verlyn – a truly great cat guy, and Carl and his family. Carl always has a kind word for a cat and often plays with us. I did so enjoy once sitting on the shoulders of his dad, Win. And, Alex and I are shocked to say it, but we are very sad to leave our vet, Mara.
Mostly, though, I will miss my yard with the creek below. There is great beauty in the soft, spring-fed waters that run through the glaciated hills of my birthplace. Alex will miss her birds – the nuthatches in the iris just outside the library window and the Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers who nest in a tree cavity outside the kitchen window. And we’ll miss the Barred Owls hooting all night in the autumn and the Turkey Vultures courting in the spring. Alex watched a small family of rabbits grow up last year and looks out for them to this day. I’ll miss my outdoor friend Marmot. We both hope Black Cat will be happy with the new big house people.
But in the end, we are cats…and we live in the moment, something humans could learn to do a bit better if you ask me. We’ll get in the car with a twinge of regret, but when we put our paws down in our new home, we’ll be committed to it. New hiding places and sliding techniques will abound. And we’ll have our people.
