There have been a number of questions about my trip: Are you excited? Are you all packed? Where are you going to go? What are you going to do? Can you bring back a koala (requested now by two separate people. The answer is: I’ll do my best.)
But more than anything, I get asked, “What about Petunia?”
Believe me, I spend more time worried about the cat than I do my own vacation (OK, probably not entirely true. Probably not even partially true. But I do indeed stress about it).
Most of the time, honestly, we just put out extra food and an additional cat box. Lately, we’ve taken to leaving the cable box and stereo on (and the actual TV off) so there’s some human voices resonating through the house (we leave it on Bravo, naturally.)
We travel a lot and she’s gotten quite used to us being gone for days (well, as used to it as a non-verbal entity can be. Let’s just say she doesn’t complain).
Plus, Petunia ignores us pretty hard core even when we’re home. In fact, she’s not too fond of us putting our hands all over her without permission and at very specific times. For example, she likes me to pet her while she gobbles down her kibble. She’s really into it. She’ll even let my cat-neglected co-cat-parent XFE pet her when she eats on occasion. And she’s really aloof and surly when it comes to him. (She also likes it when I sing Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back” to her. Which I do.)
So suffice it to say, Petunia’s ok with us being gone for a couple of days. And, she usually pays us back with excessive neediness when we return, such as head-butting us while we sleep. Weaving in and out of our legs while we try to walk from room to room. Insisting that bathroom doors be left open while we’re on the toilet.
But for a longer trip, we try to have someone stop by and let her know she hasn’t been abandoned. Usually, it’s the maid, but this time, we’re trying something different. Former Running Buddy Amy (“Former” because we’re on winter running hiatus. Actually, Amy is. I’m a treadmill slave4eva), will be stopping by and checking in on the Princess. Amy lives very close to us and her kitchen is being completely renovated, so the whole deal works out well for both of us.
So you can all stop worrying about Petunia. If anything, you should worry about Amy. Just look how creepy Petunia looked when I left (yesterday? Wait, what day is it?) morning. Licking her chops and glowing eyes? Amy better look out. (I have no idea why this picture is so small. Click on it and maybe it’ll get bigger)