Oh poor me. I’m going to a couple of meetings over the next couple of weeks (the ISEC in St. Andrews followed by the IBC, to celebrate the invention of the t-distribution). Of course, I can’t take The Beast with me, so and can’t leave him here on his own, so I’ve sent him off to the countryside for a holiday.
On Friday evening, when he was being picked up, I had to sort out his kit for him. He worked out what was happening, and ended up hiding in the box at the bottom of the cat platform he has. So, to get him into his travelling box, I had to remove all the plants from the platform (it’s the safest place to put them, as he never goes there) and tip it up until he fell out screaming (not through pain, I hasten to add. Just through annoyance. I can’t really blame him). He hung on well with only one hind leg sticking out of the round hole, but eventually Gravity won. Then it was on with the oven gloves, and inter him in ter the box.
So, now I have a weekend of piece and quiet sniff. I have de-haired the flat, and have adjusted my cat radar so I don’ need to worry about it when I go to make a cup of coffee, or some lunch. Making a sandwich isn’t the same without paws appearing next to the bread board, and a beast looking up at you pointing out that he hasn’t been fed for at least 20 minutes, and that the slice of meat smells remarkably good.
Usually at this time of day on a Sunday the Beast would be like this:
The Beast, not today.
I think he’s wondering if anything was worth the fuss when he’s like that, but he could also be hatching a new scheme to do, well something.
Later on in the evening he might dip into something more intellectual
and perhaps contemplate his latest installation piece Under the Sofa. Or just sit on the mouse mat and stare at me.
So instead, I am sat here blogging, without the balcony door open, but not with The Beast wandering out to examine the view and chat to any birds he sees
Hang on, that’s not right for July
The last I heard he was starting to settle into his new surroundings, so I expect he’ll be fine.
sniff
What a tragic post! I really feel for you. It reminds me of when someone I live with goes away on a school trip or similar. I keep on catching myself starting to do “support stuff activities” (like cooking vegetarian meals) and then realising I don’t have to. Quite sad.
I hope you don’t miss him (her?) too much, and that the meetings are sufficiently distracting.
I remember coming home from vacations and whatnot to find a very quiet house, because the cats were still at the Restful Paws Luxury Cat Hotel (Fully Licensed).
Now of course we humans at the Maison Des Girrafes are in a minority and have never been away, all of us together. Mrs Gee, Gee Minor and Gee Minima went to a Bar-Mitzvah in Israel this spring, something that I needed like a loch im kopf, so I stayed at home and bonded with Heidi (who at 5 months was too young to leave home) the cats (now too old for catteries), the chickens, the guinea pigs etc etc.
We do plan to go away for a week later this summer. The cost of getting a professional house-and-pet-sitter (being in the Norfolk Smallholders’ Network has its advantages) will be more than the holiday.
In a few years your children will be old enough to look after the place when you go off for a well-earned break.
Theoretically. Though one wonders what the place will look like when we get back.
It’ll be fine the first time…