September 20, 2013, Jacksonville, Fla.—Home again.
We arrived home yesterday afternoon, unsure of what we would find in the house. If you recall, when we left Saturday morning, Charlie decided he did not want to travel. He hid somewhere in the house (or perhaps outside). We searched every conceivable nook and cranny but could not find the little devil.
Charlie has a history of hiding. In our first motorhome, he hid so well when we departed Yuma, Ariz., that we thought we had left him behind. Turned out he had jumped behind the kitchen cabinets when the slide was in and hid inside a cupboard drawer. In our new motorhome, he has already found a way to hide under the bed, sometimes necessitating removing an under-bed drawer to let him out.
We finally decided to leave him a big bowl of food and water and go. What would be would be.
Xena has always been our little bad girl when we travel. The first day or so is usually good, but almost inevitably we find little “gifts” in the coach—even when we use two litter boxes. This has always happened when we have the two cats in transit.
Not this time, however. She was a good girl. She was cuddly, came out during the drives, usually slept on our bed, and used her litter box every time. No gifts.
The “gift problem” obviously must be a retaliation against sharing with Charlie. Xena just doesn’t like to share —at least with him. Maybe it’s because he occasionally tries to, well...you know...her...despite the fact that he was fixed before I even got him from the pound.
So, what would we find when we got home? An angry cat who tore up our house? A starved cat who refused to eat anything while we were gone? Or would he even be home or alive?
He was fine. When Jim opened the door, he was out on the porch, sleeping in his chair. He got up and greeted us and immediately started talking and demanding attention.
No “gifts.” No damage. No mess. I wonder if he realized we had left him?
We still don’t know where he hid, and we’ll probably never know. The next time we leave, however, we will be more careful to get him into an enclosed area where he cannot hide. I didn’t mind leaving him for six days, but should we take an extended trip, that would be another story.
Until next time,
Your Reluctant Rover,