I'd been dreading this weekend for some time, the Big Man was to go to his new home. I packed up all his belongings (quite a lot actually when you inlcude toys, collars, treats, spray on cat nip, etc etc) and set off for Warrington. The lovely Anne-Marie was waiting for him with treats and a gorgeous Alessi cat bowl.
After much skulking around nervously, interspersed with lots of talking and chirruping, he settled down. When I got home the flat felt very empty. No furry face at the door when I got in, no constant companion as I walk about.
My favourite Frank moments:
- His 'victory runs' - a mad dash up and down the hallway, sometimes coinciding with a litter tray visit. As I have wooden floors there was always much 'cartoon cat' running - legs and feet scrabbling, but not getting anywhere.
- His 'stealth walking' slowly over the duvet in the middle of the night, trying to get to the comfiest place on my pillow. Like you won't notice 5 kilos of cat stomping over you!
- Likewise waking up when on my back to find him sat on my chest, staring at me, waiting for me to wake up.
- His complete exhaustion after any activity, however small. After a weekend of constant playing and company, he would literally be unable to keep his eyes open on a Sunday night. Howvere hard we tried. Hilarious.
- His love of being picked up and cuddled like a a baby. He liked nothing better than to fall asleep in my arms. Did I mention he weighed 5 kilos....? No wonder I have a back problem.
He has gone to a great home and I know he will be happy. I still miss him though.
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