Both of the boys are safely in the Palm Springs place now, as shown in this completely uneventful video:
Confusing, right? It’s a cat, on the internet, but he’s not doing anything funny and there aren’t subtitles. Weird.
Anyway. Thistle arrived yesterday, took a few minutes to get settled, and that was it. Of course he doesn’t leave his cage much these days, what with the failing eyesight and all, so aside from the scary car noises and thumps it’s all pretty much just a change of wallpaper for him.
Nosy’s Big Adventure Day was today. The Raven and I steeled ourselves for the worst: we imagined we were in for two hours of literal caterwauling in the Jeep, then days of vague hints from deep in dark closets that we might have a kitty somewhere made entirely of ectoplasm and dander. Except it didn’t work that way. There was a scurry of betrayed upset when I got him shut in his cat carrier, and he didn’t much like the traffic in Glendale, but who does? “Meow,” he said, “I told you we should have taken the 10.” By the time we got to Upland* he was pretty much sulking quietly. Until he quieted, though, I drove and The Raven sat in the back seat with him, murmuring sweet momly nothings into his cat carrier as he mewled pitifully. This provided me the opportunity to add two items to my list of “jokes that seem hilarious until you actually tell them,” to wit:
“Excuse me, lady, could you get your baby to quiet down? I’m trying to get some sleep up here,” and
“I don’t know what your problem is, Nosy. Thistle made this very same trip yesterday and he didn’t even meow once.”
Somehow they let me live. In any event, while Nosy did do the requisite terrified cowering behind the toilet bowl once we got to the new place, it wasn’t long before his Bengal nature shone through the abject fear. Within about half an hour he was tentatively prowling around. Within an hour he was taking the closet doors off their hinges to see what was on the other side, and examining the latches on the windows with keen interest. Within two weeks he’ll likely be a regular at the cigar store down the block.
In not entirely unrelated news it’s also worth noting that February 3 is the third anniversary of the Jeep coming to live with me, which is a fine memory even if Thistle tried his best to ruin it.
* Upland was once known as North Ontario, but had its name changed to curb the Neil Young earworms then rampant among the populace.
“The 10.” You wrote, “the 10.” You are now well and truly SoCal.
Here’s another video of a cat in his new digs, also not doing anything funny and no subtitles (which I first read as “subtleties,” but that’s a malady for another time): http://www.flickr.com/photos/sherwoodh/3994144295/
I like the “Thistle didn’t meow” joke. And pass along my wishes to Thistle for a happy year of the rabbit
The second joke was funny! Don’t let that one go. Good luck to you all in your new surroundings. I’m guessing you’ll love it.