So let me tell you about moving and cats. I feel that I’m an expert on this subject as a)we have moved and b)we have cats.

So moving day dawns and we herd the cats into the master bathroom for a fun filled day of feline angst. The movers arrive just before 8 a.m. – and to make matters even more interesting – there’s a nor’easter blowing.

In June.

Anyway. Not long into the move, one of the moving guys takes a break and says to me: “Ma’am, I’m not sure what your cats are doing, but I’ve heard howling, loud banging noises, stuff being swept off the counter….and then the water came on….”

I took the stairs two at a time.

At this point, the cats had apparently organized, and were attempting, not wholly unsucessfully, to pull the vacuum cleaner under the bathroom door. They had managed to force the plug through the opening under the door and had pulled the entire power cord into the bathroom. When I arrived, they were in the process of banging the vacuum cleaner into the door repeatedly – protesting the less than optimal conditions in which they found themselves. I extracted the remains of the vacuum from their clutches and watched as a defiant paw came out from under the door and gestured menacingly.

I still can’t explain how they turned on the water.

Anyway – 8-1/2 hours, more angst, and two moving trucks later, the movers and Jim headed to the new homestead.

I remained behind ready to handle whatever I found behind the bathroom door.

So I open the door.

Three cats had gone into the room. Only one came out.

That’s when I noticed that the sink was staring at me.

Good. Two cats, one slightly damp.

Finally, I opened the cabinet where apparently the other two had placed the third.

In all – it went pretty well. No bloodshed, a fair amount of flying fur, and a nascent Cat Union that I’ll have to bust up.

They think that they’ll be renegotiating their contract….but I’ve found a great deal on kibble…….