Cat, Meet The New House; House, Meet The Cat

I have shared custody of a cat, a Maine Coon. From some time Sunday until Wednesday evening, it’s at my place; otherwise, it’s at its owner’s home. Earlier this week, that changed, as she moved about a mile from a mobile home to a two-story house. The question was: how would Kenai Kitty adapt to the new digs after some ten or so years in the only home she has known (aside from her weekly time with me in three different apartments over the years).

Turned out to be a successful transition. Kitty seems to have a lot of confidence in us and whatever we do, so when I brought her over and opened her carrier, she sort of looked around and started sniffing out the place. We had the opinion that she picked up on the move quickly and found her new places in no time.

There is the extended kitchen window, originally constructed to hold flowers out in the sunlight; now home to a little cat bed. My little dresser from home, back from when I was little myself, next to a window; she lies there and watches the world go by. There are a few other places, as well.

She has identical dry food bowl and poop boxes upstairs and down. Having said that, she eats the dry food only upstairs and uses only the downstairs poop box. We all have our customs, I suppose, and the cat is no exception.

There has been no “I want to go home to the old place” meowing. The old furniture is here, the people she knows are here, she has comfortable places to nap. All is well.