trust the process

oliver is definitely a cat who trusts the process.  totally grateful for it, i am.  i took him out on adventures at the beginning of our journey of adventures together.   when he first visited rich’s loft, simon hated him and so did sarah.  he persevered.  the hissing and growling didn’t phase him much at all.

we both moved into the loft with rich.  sarah went out the window one night and never came back.  oliver and simon became very close.  best friends with adventures of their own in the loft and out on the roof.  sometimes into other people’s lofts through their windows.  simon borrowed a toy once from belle, oliver’s lady friend.  oliver used the litter box, which probably didn’t go over too well with sebastian.  and then there was isabelle and anabelle.  oliver loved isabelle.  anabelle wasn’t fond of oliver being fond of isabelle.

then there was the long adventure in the car.  three days to new york, the second day the longest.  oliver and simon met edward in memphis in a hotel room.  didn’t make for friendly happy times, but we were doing a favor for rich’s friends.  simon squeezed his 13-lb striped ginger body behind the headboard.  for someone who was usually vocal he didn’t make a peep.  earlier in the day he flipped out at a rest stop in arkansas.  rich didn’t know not to take him out of his carrier.  poor guys.

we eventually made it to manhattan.  centre and broom.  great spot to land on the island.  the room was a windowless closet the size sarah jessica parker has for her shoes, maybe smaller.  oliver and simon hung out under the bed.  a couple of days later after several trips up and down 4 flight of stairs, we all took a ride in a u-haul through chinatown on canal street then up to 32nd street and broadway.  they wouldn’t let me check in to our room at the hotel while rich was returning the u-haul because my name wasn’t on the reservation, so the three of us had to wait and wait and wait.  my cell phone was dead and they wouldn’t let me call rich’s cell phone (long distance, but not international).  at least they let me check my bags i guess.  by the time rich arrived an hour and a half later, i burst in to tears when i ran into him at the revolving doors.  i on my way out, he on his way in.  nothing a hug, hot shower, and comfortable bed couldn’t fix.  we stayed there a few nights, oliver loved it–made friends with the woman who cleaned our room.  simon stayed under the bed–she didn’t even know he was there.

i spent the daytime scrubbing mysterious substances from the walls and painted the apartment before our things arrived.  when we checked out of the hotel we took a cab ride down 5th avenue, passed by washington square park then down thompson and up sullivan street.  i had no idea where anything was.

neither simon nor oliver was sure about the new space until days later when our things arrived and the boxes were unpacked.   it was a sow process that involved rearranging boxes as the number needing to be unpacked dwindled.  the air mattress was set up in at least 3 different spots before the boxes were gone.  we brought way too much stuff.  things got settled and evolved organically.   but at the same time it devolved.  and after many rotten and/or silent days many months later oliver and i took the D train to brooklyn to stay with kristin.

i almost bit a hole in my lip trying to not to burst into tears.  the look on simon’s face when i put oliver in his carrier and took him away is still in my mind’s eye.  everyone on the train was curious about him, but he prefers cab rides for sure.  When we arrived on 4th avenue, oliver checked out the entire apartment, 4 times the size as the one on sullivan street.  when he got to the end of the territory to chart, he stuck his face under kristin’s bed and met tiny, who jumped out, screamed, and attacked him.  he played it off pretty well and we kept them separated for a week.  tiny accepted his presence, but she was not pleased.  and not very tiny either.  oliver adapted.  maybe he thought he could win her over.  can’t say he didn’t try.

three months later we took the D to the F back to manhattan after major bed bug trauma, this time to the nexus–1st and 1st.  Another new cat, willy, didn’t attack…but she wasn’t particularly friendly.  oliver liked playing with her, but she wasn’t really into it.  she just wanted to eat his food.  there were ladders to climb and shelves for jumping.  again, he adapted.

three months later and a cab ride, we landed on 82nd street close to gracie mansion and upstate new york.  we both settled in quickly, lyle said it’s like oliver has lived here for years.  oliver loves lyle too.  he’d love him more if he could find out what is going on inside his room.  it’s quiet here, not much traffic or noise…we like it.  it’s the most quiet spot on the island.  peaceful.  he likes having a fire escape again, and he watches the pigeons from tim’s window.  plus tim has a sofa he doesn’t mind oliver using as a scratching post occasionally.  (i did get him a scratching post he likes to use, but clearly the sofa is his first choice.)   one of his favorite pastimes is scratching his way along the sofa while he slides across the wood floor.  it does look fun.  he has no friend for leap frog or wrestling though.   perhaps soon a soon a kitten will take part in our adventure.  we’ll see.  one thing is certain, oliver rolls with the punches and reminds me to trust the process.



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