Good for nothing

I guess things were going along a little too smoothly with the move. We were working ourselves to the bone, but we were starting to see the fruits of our labor. The house was beginning to resemble something of a home, and a nice looking one. Boxes were torn down, dishes put away, packing papers smoothed out and hauled to the shed. We were humming along. I was feeling so good, I thought that after today and tomorrow we would be close to done.

Then a curve ball. Or should I say hair ball.

We went to our old house to do what we thought would be an hour of cleaning. Then we discovered the attic. AKA: Flanders (the cat's) hideout. Flanders is our 12 year old scardy-cat. He used to be a lovable companion, until we got a dog.... and had kids. After each new addition Flanders became more and more reclusive. We actually considered leaving him behind when we moved from Denver to Berkeley, we thought we could find him a dog and kid free home where he would be happier. Unfortunately, time ran out, and I didn't have the heart to take him to a shelter, so he came along. How I wish we would have made another decision.

Flanders destroyed the insulation in our attic. I'll let you use your imagination. We discovered that this morning and quickly determined that we needed to replace it. No problem right? A little speed bump to the day. We went to Home Depot, got the supplies, and David went up to the attic to take care of the problem. Only he didn't solve the problem, instead we ran into a bigger problem when David's foot went through the floor of the attic dry wall-and through the kitchen ceiling. Awesome. Bye, bye security deposit.

But the story does not end there. No. It is 10:25 on Sunday night and David has been at the old house in Berkeley since 6:00. He is waiting. Waiting for Flanders to come out of the attic so that we can remove him from the home. Waiting. The cat will not come out. He has peaked his head out once or twice, so we know he is there, but he is one fast feline. Woosh, and he's gone. As I have said, Flanders often hides away from the action, but he usually comes around for a little head scratch now and then. I suppose that he was spooked by the movers and the empty house, and now, well, he ain't going nowhere.

If the husband is not successful in capturing the damn animal tonight I am going to have to spend my day off at the house.....waiting. Rather than finishing unpacking our new home, I'll be sitting idol in an empty house waiting on a stupid-8 pound-good-for-nothing cat.

Meow.