I’m starting to suspect my cat, Halo, has come to a conclusion about our renovations.
Not “This is temporary.”
Not “This is loud but survivable.”
No.
Halo has decided we are moving.
Because the second the hammering starts, she gets that thousand-yard stare like she’s seen things. Like she’s about to whisper, “Tell my whiskers I loved them,” and disappear into the wilderness.
The logic, as far as I can tell, goes like this:
- The house is noisy.
- The house is dusty.
- Her cat post was relocated.
- Her food bowl moved approximately two feet.
Therefore: evacuation.
She has been stalking around the place like an offended ghost, glaring at ladders and boxes as if they personally betrayed her. Every time someone drills, she flattens her ears like, “This is not the environment I signed up for.”
And then came the moment that confirmed everything.
The other day… Halo jumped into the car.
Not in a cute way.
Not in a “ooh, adventure!” way.
In a “I’m ready. Let’s go. I have nothing left to lose.” way.
She climbed in, sat down, and stared straight ahead like she’d seen my browser history and needed to leave town immediately.
I stood there in shock, holding my keys, thinking, Is my cat… trying to take charge of the relocation plan?
She looked at me like, “Start the engine. Take me somewhere quiet. Somewhere with stable furniture and no strangers in work boots.”
Meanwhile I’m standing there like, “Ma’am. We are not fleeing. We are replacing a countertop.”
But to Halo, any disruption is clearly the beginning of the apocalypse.
A new fridge gets delivered?
Moving day.
A wall gets opened up?
We’ve been exiled.
Someone carries a piece of trim through the living room?
Pack the emotional support treats.
Honestly, I don’t know what she thinks is happening, but she’s acting like she’s the only one taking this seriously.
Which is impressive, considering she contributes nothing to the reno budget, but has very strong opinions about the work schedule.
So now I’m living in a construction tornado, trying to write, stepping over boxes, and also reassuring a cat who’s apparently planning our escape route.
If you need me, I’ll be here telling Halo, for the seventeenth time, “We’re not moving.”
And she’ll be staring back like, “That’s what they always say right before the truck arrives.”
If she starts insisting on viewing real estate listings, I’m done.
Above is Halo’s version of ‘Find The Cat’. She pops up in unexpected places daily.
All the best,
Tia
