Cats do not like change. At least my cat does not like any change. Several weeks ago the cat was banned from the bedroom due to my asthma. She still has not accepted that, under the bed was her secret hiding place. She is not a particularly friendly cat. She panics when strangers or anyone comes into the house.
Recently we rearranged the furniture in the family room. This action sent kitty into anxiety mode. Then we purchased a new refrigerator and more things in the house changed. This moved her up to the red level zone.
This past weekend we did spring cleaning and rearranged more furniture. Now, the old girl is in dire straits panic mode. She runs to the bedroom door and screams. She follows me around the house her eyes showing true terror. She cries. I reach down to pick her up and she bolts. The poor thing is desperate.
Yesterday she was missing most of the day. I was afraid the changes had pushed her over the edge and she fled her home to the wilds of suburbia. I walked through the family room searching beneath the couch and I noticed the throw on the back of the couch had a heartbeat. It was moving.
I lifted the corner of the throw and there she was cowering in terror. I patted her on the back and she seemed safe and secure.
Today more moving furniture and cleaning closets. She raced through the house crying like a wounded animal. I tried to calm her with no luck. Finally after chasing her through the house I captured her. I hugged her tight and spoke softly to her. I placed her on the back of the couch and covered her with the throw. She has been in that spot without moving for the entire morning. I guess under the throw is her new safety zone.
She is just a bizarre feline and we love her - sometimes. We need a cat whisperer.
Recently we rearranged the furniture in the family room. This action sent kitty into anxiety mode. Then we purchased a new refrigerator and more things in the house changed. This moved her up to the red level zone.
This past weekend we did spring cleaning and rearranged more furniture. Now, the old girl is in dire straits panic mode. She runs to the bedroom door and screams. She follows me around the house her eyes showing true terror. She cries. I reach down to pick her up and she bolts. The poor thing is desperate.
Yesterday she was missing most of the day. I was afraid the changes had pushed her over the edge and she fled her home to the wilds of suburbia. I walked through the family room searching beneath the couch and I noticed the throw on the back of the couch had a heartbeat. It was moving.
I lifted the corner of the throw and there she was cowering in terror. I patted her on the back and she seemed safe and secure.
Today more moving furniture and cleaning closets. She raced through the house crying like a wounded animal. I tried to calm her with no luck. Finally after chasing her through the house I captured her. I hugged her tight and spoke softly to her. I placed her on the back of the couch and covered her with the throw. She has been in that spot without moving for the entire morning. I guess under the throw is her new safety zone.
She is just a bizarre feline and we love her - sometimes. We need a cat whisperer.
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