making herself at home

I love my cat, Missy. I think I love her most because she is so very like me, and how can you not love something or someone that is like you? She is finicky, talkative at times and unashamedly antisocial at other times, loves a good nap, loves loving attention even more, can be quite moody, and loves a good snuggle.

She is also highly resistant to change, as am I, even when I ask for and put a downpayment for that change to occur. Moving has been a test of patience and emotional endurance for both of us, human and feline alike. We have both looked at our new surroundings, wrinkled our noses, and adopted an expression that clearly states, I don't know about this.

If the car ride over from the apartment to the house the day we finally moved in was any indication of her future behavior, we were sure we were done for. Missy howled and yowled all 6 miles from one home to the next, expressing at constant intervals her displeasure at Being Moved and likely drawing stares of concern from passing vehicles (because yes, she was THAT LOUD). How dare these humans interrupt her calm, orderly, lazy little existence? Me-OW.

And so am I. When life throws me a curveball, I whine quite a bit. I probably catch my share of stares as well. And I throw my hands up, begin a tantrum, and ask God why this has to be so hard, why couldn't life have stayed as it was, I was nice and comfortable there, didn't You know? In Missy's defense, I wasn't too pleasant the first few days I spent in this new house, either, complaining about the retro wallpaper, the monster-sized bugs that seemed to be everywhere, the kitchen cabinets that didn't allow me to put anything underneath them onto the counter (like a coffeemaker and a microwave, among other things). I wanted to go back to that apartment I spent three years wanting to get out of.

Missy was moved from a rather cramped apartment to a much more spacious home, and that home now contains a sun room that she has claimed solely for herself. It has her food, water, and litter box, she can lie on the soft plaid armchair relatively undisturbed while birds and crickets chirp just outside the glass windows, and it has the added bonus of being about 10 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. For a cat who has had to wearily adapt herself to a living environment bordering on frigid just so that her humans could be comfortable, this room is clearly heaven. And her humans were so excited to see her enjoy this room so much, they just can't stop taking pictures of her in it, or coming to love on her while she poses in a queenly fashion on the armchair, waiting to receive her loyal subjects.

And so it is with me. Sure, I may whine and cry when change comes my way, but when I finally stop stamping my feet and hollering long enough to look around, I'll always find that God brought me to a place much better than where I was before, even if the process of change was hard and might have hurt. He knows what I like, and He knows what is best for me.

I'm beginning to really love this home, too. I think I'll go look cute and lie on my head for a while myself...