No one was happier to welcome me back to Kansas City than my poor misunderstood cat, Mia. She and her sister, Maggie, spent the last year with my parents since it seemed it would be less traumatic than flying them to and from Hawaii. It had also proved difficult to find furnished apartments in Hawaii that were willing to accept pets.
Maggie settled in fairly easily to life on the farmette. Laps were plentiful and Fancy Feast was forthcoming. Mia, on the other hand, objected strenuously to sharing a house with a dog and registered her displeasure the only way she knew how, by peeing on all the areas of the living room carpet that the dog frequented.
After we finally unpacked everything and settled into our new house, I went to the farmette to retrieve my poor kitty. She spent the next couple of days alternately exploring the new house and then attaching to me like velcro. Since then she has settled back into her routine of sleeping and eating and giving dirty looks.
Maggie, my special needs cat, remains at the farmette for now. I'm reluctant to bring her into this turbulent household while it is still summer which, for whatever reason, is her bad season. She hasn't been right in the head since her bout with diabetes two years ago. She seems pretty content with her grandparents and I'm reluctant to rock the boat.
