Rules for Catching a Cat

Lucifer is a prick. 

Lucifer has got wind of the fact he's going to Aunty Blarney and Uncle Barney's for a little while. 

And Lucifer is being a prick. 

He's hiding under the bed. 

I'd left all the preparations to the last minute. But I had to get his blanket, toy and food into the car. The last thing to come out is the cat carrier. 

And now he's seen the cat carrier, he's gone under the bed. 

I've tried sitting on my lovely new chair. He comes and joins me in the windowsill, but as soon as I get up, he returns to under the bed, where I can't get him. 

It seems the rules for catching a cat are as follows:

• Keep your routine until the very last minute.
• Do not bring out the cat carrier until the very last minute
• Don't look your cat in the eye during the day
• Don't mention that he's going to go anywhere
• Pray to which ever deity you choose that when it comes time for him to go into the cat carrier that you will not end up losing a pint of blood
• Wear long sleeves and rubber gloves
• And know that no matter how long and often you apologise, he is never going to forgive you.

Two hours later: 

Lucifer is still a prick. 

It took me half an hour to finally gain his trust. 

And packing the car to move a cat is as bad as moving a toddler. You have to take as much stuff with you. Blanket, toys, food, bowl, crunchies, a bag of litter...

He's now lording it over the back of Blarney and Barney's house, hissing at anybody who comes into his end of the house. 

And I am home, bereft that my furry house demon is not with me. 

Blinded by mummy-guilt, I will go to my writer's retreat tomorrow, pining for my wee boy, knowing that I will have hell to pay when I come back on Sunday night. 

At least he's consistent. 

Today's song: