Sep. 6th, 2003

raybear: (cranky)
My throat and belly hurts from being on the phone for nearly two hours with an old friend who lives in Seattle. I never take for granted those friendships that go for years and manage to accomodate becoming different people with inherently some of the same traits. Talks that fall into easy patterns of laughter and reassurance and discovering that even after a year of no contact you can still speak the same language and remember the same stories and when you share new experiences, it turns out the other was finding out the same lessons.

During the entire conversation, I paced between the two parties. At one end of the apartment was Sophie, still in the crate, confused as to why she wasn't let out after I'd arrived home. On the other end of the apartment was Liesl, meowing in her crate, not wanting to come out while it sat on the couch. After half an hour, I dumped her out. She immediately retreated under the couch and the coffee table, initially meowing constantly to register her upsetness. After nearly an hour under the table, I decided to show her the litterbox, lest she worry she has no place to go. I pulled back the table and picked her up. She didn't seem pleased, but wasn't too resistant either. I placed her in the box, per Lowenstein's suggestion. She recommended I do it three times, just to reinforce her knowing where it's located. And I will do that, whenever she decides to leave the box. She's been sitting there for more than half an hour. I finally decided to place some food and water in there, along with the pillowcase that Lowenstein slept on, and shut the bathroom door so I could let Sophie out of the crate, since she needed to eat and go out.

About every ten minutes or so I visit her in the bathroom, talk to her, give her good rubbings. She seems happier, rolling and pawing around, reacting well to being loved. But she still won't leave the box. At least the litter is unused, since she's nestling up in it.

Sophie's starting to suspect something. Whenever I open the bathroom door, she comes running and waits for me until I come out. She knows something exciting is in there, but then she forgets until five minutes later when I go back inside.

I spent excessive money at the pet store today. In addition to litter and food for her, I went ahead and got food for Sophie. And a big bottle of pet cleaner, since I'm anticipating some "accidents" in this transition. And tons and tons of treats for both dogs and cats. I'm so spoilsome, I know, even though food is a poor subsitute for what they're feeling.

As I was driving away from Lowenstein's apartment today, Liesl was meowing and meowing and meowing and I really just started to almost cry. I felt sort of silly for anthropromorphizing the situaion. Poor Liesl, leaving her home that she's known all her life, going to a strange place with a near-stranger, feeling abandoned by Mommy and leaving behind the daughter that even though she doesn't seem to care for, at least she's familiar and company. Her meowing was persistent and expressive. She knew this wasn't a trip to the vet.

My Seattle friend asked if I was really just planning on staying home all Saturday night to play diplomat between the animals. I said yeah, I really was. Besides, driving around today I kept seeing men in lederhosen walking around in groups on the sidewalk and that just doesn't strike me as safe. Better stay home just in case.

May 2010

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