Depressed Cat

Hey – someone actually read my blog!

I must confess, I only started it to put off all the things I had to do re: moving house, and then forgot all about it when I entered my nervous breakdown concerning the actual process of moving house. Didn’t think anyone noticed I was here in the first place.

 Since I last blogged, if you’re dying to know, both the house and car situations have been upgraded from “dire” to “happy”. Rio the Clio (as I affectionately call my car – mainly because when someone comments on her, I get to sing “Her name is Rio, and she dances on the sand…”. It’s the little things in life.) went away for a few days and returned all shiny and new. My single-woman-in-distress fears were dispelled when my very nice friend McLovely took the keys from me without even being asked, sourced a second hand door for me, and got a guy he knows to do the repairs and respraying at a very reasonable price. And Rio dances once again.

The house, also, is fabulous. The rent stings a bit, but it’s worth it. It feels like a real home. More on that at a later date. I do have to mention that Kat the Cat does not, in fact, see it as her home, and has spent the past month staring obsessively out of windows in the exact direction of Cullybackey, and making a bolt for the great outdoors at every opportunity. It’s all very worrying. I’ve started letting her out for short periods, most of which have concluded with me walking dismally around the block shaking a box of Go-Cat and yelling “KAT!” like Crazy Cat Lady. I just know if I let her roam for a few hours she’ll head for Pottinger Street and get flattened on the Cullybackey Road, which just wasn’t intended for cats.

 Take yesterday morning, for example. I left the bathroom window open after my shower, and returned to find the cat had somehow sneaked in past me and was sitting on the windowsill with this possessed expression, watching traffic whizzing past. Admittedly, yelling “Hey!!” and diving for her was not the most constructive action I could have taken. Wretched creature took a kamikaze leap out of the window into mid-air. I felt a little foolish about my hysterical scream of horror when I realised she had of course just landed on the conservatory roof, a mere 5ft down, but still. Hanging out of the bathroom window trying to grab a stubborn cat in full view of rush hour traffic on the Grove Road is an experience you can do without, at least before you’ve had a cup of coffee.

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