Cat ate my homework

CameraMan finally comes home early tomorrow morning, and as in all things, I have waited until the very last minute to clean his apartment. A week ago when I moved in here I basically dropped everything on the floor of the living room and have been trying to ignore it ever since. Oh, I made a few half-hearted attempts to put away my stuff, but the whole place still looked like Hurricane Bossy hit it.

After an afternoon with CaliBoy and my old friend Hector at the movies, I came home for the big clean-up effort. The Bossy Cat knew immediately that something was different. Cleaning is apparently a rare occurrence for me. I don't like to give the impression that I'm a slob, so let's just say it's because I change apartments so often that the only times I thoroughly clean are right before I move.

Now I don't know that much about cat brains or cat memory. I don't know if the Bossy Cat associates my cleaning with long car rides, settling into new places, or some random time I stepped on her tail. All I know is that she was upset. I made a few trips to and from my car, and as I was coming back to the apartment the first couple times I thought I could hear her crying. When I opened the door, though, she was just sitting on the carpet watching the door, totally quiet. Until I snuck up on her and caught her standing by the door, screaming her head off. It took 10 minutes of intensive attention and petting to get her to calm down, and she wasn't totally comfortable until I gave up the project completely and settled in on the couch.

Sorry the place is such a mess, CameraMan. My cat wouldn't let me clean up.