I don’t like to say I am living on the floor. I like to say I’m “free of furniture.” Because, you know, furniture is like, such a hassle, you know?
Through all the upheaval, moving, vet visits, plane rides, other scary pets, long drives, scuzzy motels, my cat has endured like a champion. He can be rather skittish, and I worry that all the chaos will somehow damage him permanently. But he’s bounced back after every trauma.
I introduced him to our new home and he slinked around, sniffed the air, and checked every corner. When he felt comfortable, I got the universal sign of kitty well-being: he ate and crapped. Success!
In the past 24 hours, he has been hiding in a deep cabinet in the bathroom and has refused to come out. When I pulled him out of his hiding place, he scrambled away as soon as he could, fearfully looking back at…the ceiling fan. Then he ran in terror.
So after all the crap I have put him through, it is the benign and motionless ceiling fan that has finally popped his little kitty brain. Fricken idiot.
The stove, counter top and tile floor in the kitchen are all brand new. The cabinets leave a little to be desired. The whole place has nice little details that carry a hint of history and character. Then there’s a veneer of cheap remodeling that is “kinda nice.” It’s nice in a bulk, institutional sort of way. There are details that are overlooked, or work shoddily finished, or bottom-of-the-line fixtures. But for less than $700, it’s still a steal.