On Saturday it was decided that it's finally time for me to give up my apartment. It's silly that I even still have an apartment - seeing as I spend all of my time at my fiance's house.
We got up early Sunday morning, had a quick breakfast, and happily drove over to my apartment with two cars and began filling them up. You know how it is - you wake up early, you're feeling great because you feel like you're getting a head start on everything, you're all positive and cheery...and then you realize you're going to be moving all of your stuff. Everything you own. And suddenly, your stomach drops and you're not so excited any more. In fact, it all sort of makes you feel sick. You realize how much junk you've accumulated over time, and you feel like you're drowning. At least that's how it felt for me.
As the day progressed, we moved quite a lot of stuff. In Memphis that day it got up to about 101 degrees. It was already close to 90 when we started in the morning. Soon I developd a nasty I-feel-like-I'm-going-to-throw-up headache, probably because I was severely dehydrated, so when 1:00 pm rolled around, we decided to stop moving and just focus on unloading the already-moved items and sort them into keep/throw away/sell piles (we're having a yard sale this weekend, thank goodness. I'm overwhelmed with how much stuff I own, and even more so now that I've seen it crammed into his house).
Despite all of this, it wasn't the worst of it for me. You see, I still had my cat at my apartment. Her name is Sydney, she's a Russian Blue, and I love her. I got her when she was about 8 weeks old.
See that picture there? Isn't she adorable? She's about 2 years old now. This is a picture of her, all grown up. She gets along wonderfully with my beagle puppy, Zoe.
As we were dating, I would bring Zoe over to my fiance's house when I stayed there for long periods of time. Those visits became longer and longer, and now I'm basically living with him. Which means Zoe is there all of the time, we've established her own food and water bowls at the house, and she's settled in nicely.
But the cat stayed at the apartment. Why? Because of him...
Yes, my fiance has a 95 lb. German Shepherd, named Cicero. He is sweet as can be. However, he also loves cats. He loves to chase them, and chase them some more. We tried to introduce Sydney and Cicero one day, and it ended with me crying, my fiance with bloody scratches up and down his arms, and Sydney nowhere in sight as Cicero roamed the place trying to find her. It was a nightmare.
So last night I had to face this nightmare again. We finally moved the last of my things to his house, and all that was left was Syndey and her litter box. I hesitantly brought her in the house, set up her new food and water area, and then, with my eyes closed, opened the door to let the dogs out of the back hallway.
And...it wasn't too bad. Of course the cat hid under the couch while Cicero swept through the place searching for her, but that was about it. I think our big mistake last time was trying to get them to be friends right away. We decided to hold Sydney and try to "introduce" them. Don't ever do that. Like I said, it will end with bloody arms and lots of tears.
Overall, it went better than I thought. Do you have any nightmare stories of trying to merge, or "introduce" new pets to each other?