Moving Sucks, part one

Okay, so I tried being clever. I had a whole list of why moving sucks. But this move has drained me. It has wiped me clear of creativity and wit. So instead you get some rambling thoughts about why moving sucks, thoughts that may or may not be connected to one another.

We didn’t have enough room in the U-haul. Yeah, we packed, and packed, and donated nonstop. Still we didn’t have room for everything. By the time we figured this out, the U-haul was 95% packed, and we still had 15% of our possessions to get in. With the help of some good friends, and some mad Tetris skils, we got about 10% in. But it was frantic and stressful and lame.

Little did I realize that it wasn’t going to get less stressful anytime soon. We spent the night at our friend’s house, and Mowgli was not a happy little kitty. He cried the entire drive there, and spent the night hiding under the guest bed. River, a social little kitten, came out to meet our hosts. She purred and cooed and slept at my feet that night. We drugged them in the morning, put them in their respective carriers, and I drove off about five minutes ahead of Leonard. Mowgli cried, and cried, and cried – AND RIPPED OPEN HIS CARRIER!

Yeah, the cat broke the carrier, popped his little head out, and escaped. I frantically pulled over, parked in a Fresh & Easy parking lot, and tried to figure out what to do next. Mowgli crawled under my feet, trying to find a safe place. I called Leonard – no answer. I called my mother – no answer. I called Leonard again – no answer. I called Claire – no answer. Then I did what all strong women do when the stress has taken over. I cried.

Long story short, Claire returned my message. She and her charming boyfriend drove to my rescue, and got us to a pet store. We got Mowgli a sturdier carrier, which he hated, and I went in my merry way. Leonard called me back (his phone had accidentally turned off), and we agreed to meet around Magic Mountain. I was an hour behind schedule, thanks to Mowgli.

Mowgli cried and cried and cried. He scratched his nose trying to escape, and tore up his claws. At Magic Mountain we gave him another pill, and I passed River onto Leonard. Mowgli and I would do the drive on our own. He cried through the grapevine, until finally calming down around Bakersfield. He’d sleep for maybe twenty minutes at a time, then wake up and pathetically start to cry.

And I started to wonder about all of you who said traveling with a cat was easy. Were you punking me? Was this an elaborate practical joke? Mowgli’s a good kitty. A little insecure, sure, but otherwise he’s good. How do those of you with poorly behaved cats do it?

He thought we were abandoning him. I’m sure of that. And abandonment issues? I get that. He truly is my cat.

We made it, half an hour later than we were supposed to. Luckily our apartment manager waited so that we could get into the apartment that night. If not we would have had to wait until Tuesday. F-ing Tuesday! We slept on the floor that night, curled up on whatever blankets we could find.

As for Saturday? Well friends, I guess you’ll have to stay tuned for “moving sucks, part 2.”