fat cats don’t like change

It was in the early days of my relationship with my husband and somewhere in the midst of “new-love’s-full-disclosure” when I told him about my cat. I had been moving small things into his apartment over the last few weeks and, while plants and rugs were easily incorporated, a 22 pound middle aged Maine Coon cat might not be such a seamless addition.
The cat, Fatty Bodkins (aka “Fats”) had been lodging with an old friend who happened to:
A. be my former boyfriend.
B. live on an island you could only reach by boat and,
C. was moving off the island, which meant that I had to come and get the cat ASAP–like in a couple of days.
My husband listened to my tale and, being the helpful soul he is, called his parents who lived more proximate to that tiny island than we did, to ask if they would mind having a large cat live in their garage for a bit. They did not mind and so off I went to get the cat.
I could write a lot about the adventure surrounding getting that cat, but here are the salient points:
A. Trying to retrieve a 22 lb cat from underneath a built in double wooden bunk bed makes you sweat and even swear a little.
B. Forgetting your cat carrier and having to use a box to transport a fat, yowling, unhappy cat in a row boat across a bay is not an optimal way to spend a morning, with or without a former boyfriend.
C. Having the cat escape when you are A L M O S T on the other side and being given the dreaded CAT EYES OF DEATH stare when said cat realizes that he is on a boat AND is going back in the box is disheartening, and immediately followed by more sweating, swearing and some serious scratching to boot.
That Fat Cat did not like change, not even the tiniest little bit. You have NO IDEA how many times during that drama-filled moving day that I wished he could speak English. If I could only make him understand that I was not trying to make his little cat life a living hell, but was actually helping him get to a place of greater good.
My big wow moment in telling you this true tale is that I have responded to change exactly like that very Fat Cat, and more than once in my life. I have been the one clinging to the mattress on the underside of the bunk with my eyes squeezed shut and wishing you would just leave me alone and go away. Learning ( and practicing) the art of surrender to change is an ongoing lifelong practice for me.
*Waving your way while remembering to stop, breathe, and to go with the flow.
PS– That Fat Cat moved to a new home with us, welcomed two babies with us and lived happily ever after for the rest of his kitty life.

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2 Responses to fat cats don’t like change

  1. Karin says:

    Ahhhh…still learning to retract the claws as well. Thanks for the great reflection, Penny.


  2. rebekahlang says:

    an angry cat in a rowboat. yes, i feel like this about change quite often. it’s not my strong suit, though i do try to be better about it.


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