Scaredy cats

Scaredy Max

Today, I brought the cats to the new apartment for the first time. 

Have you ever transported cats in cat carriers by car? I’m sure some cats are cool with it, but mine are not that kind of cat. Mine are the kind of cat that cry for the whole trip. It’s as if you had children in the car seat saying “Are we there yet?” for the entire hour’s drive — except instead of saying that, they were screaming “HELP!!!” And instead of screaming, they were meowing in the loudest, most helpless way. I feel sure that drivers passing me on the highway wondered where the sirens were coming from.

I thought once we got to the apartment and they could smell things they were familiar with — bed, rug, cat tree — they would settle down. This hasn’t quite been the case.

They have stopped meowing, but they are clearly outside their little kitty comfort zones. They have mostly spent the evening hiding in the closet, which is both the most protected spot and the place that has the most smells they know, shoes and clothes and so on. I coaxed Max out to look out the window for a while, but then he crept into the base of the cat tree and has stayed there since.

They’ll be more relaxed tomorrow, I expect, once the horror of the car ride is forgotten and they see that there’s no one coming to hunt them. 

I feel bad for having taken them from their known environment. And yet, I’m also glad to have them here. It may not feel like home to them yet, and truth be told it doesn’t quite feel like home to me either. But having them here with me is a step in that direction.