I have been pretty lazy lately, sort of in a funk. Slowly, I am emerging back to my normal self. This is why I had not, until today, gone through the semi-annual exercise of switching the clothes in my drawers to the winter wardrobe.
Luckily, as I began to fill a box with my short sleeved work shirts, I had a helper:
Nothing like a little cat hair to keep out the moths until next summer. After gently removing my purring beast from the box, I turned to put it into the closet, to find:
Again, I gently removed my purring beast from my drawer, and replaced my sleeveless tanks with fuzzy sweaters. Nearly each day, the cat runs into the closet when the door is opened. The closet is not insulated, so we keep the door closed to try and salvage what little heat/air conditioning we can. As a result, the Puss is often locked in the closet for several hours before we hear the whine from within, and we must keep a careful watch on her as we pack our bags for a trip. Thankfully, she has not been locked in the closet for a weekend. You would think this would be traumatic for a cat. But no:
I did not need to gently remove the cat before shutting the door. As we go through this daily, she stood there looking bewildered as I attempted to call her out, but she zipped through my legs when I made the move to physically remove her. Will she remember this in the morning? I doubt it.