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Sunday, February 14, 2016

Happy Valentine's Day, Cat!

It’s Valentine’s Day and my husband, Scotto and I are sprawled, exhausted on the couch, sweating, panting and rubbing the stinging carpet burns on our elbows.

Minutes beforehand our bodies had been trembling and strained with every muscle shrieking in agony. Both of our bodies had been locked in a powerful contraction until finally, screaming for mercy, we’d surrendered to the orgasmic bliss of release.

God I hate Pilates planks. They’re the worst part of the routine, don’t you agree? I can only last twenty seconds which is as lame as you can get really.

Later today we’ll be heading off to the movies to watch Zoolander 2 because even though I come across as an intellectual highbrow on the blog, the reality is that I have the brain of a 14 year old boy and so does Scotto.

The first weekend we met we watched the first Zoolander on the telly so it seems fitting we should bookend our time in Townsville by watching the sequel on this, the most romantic day on the calendar.

We leave Dodge City in ten days.

The entire process of selling our house and purchasing another has not been without nail-biting misery and uncertainty, let me tell you.

We’ve bought a house which we haven’t even seen. Of course there were photographs on the Web and I sent my parents to scout it out… but we haven’t even set foot in it.

Oh well. If I don’t like it I’ll just blame Mum and Dad.

Anyway, the new house is sitting atop Tamborine Mountain and there’s a huge, fenced backyard for all the animals and no close neighbours to whinge about the incessant barking.

We’ll both be driving our cars on the 1500 kilometre journey. Scotto will have Willy the Silky Terrier in his car and I’ll have the Chihuahua, the Fox Terrier and the cat.

Yes. The bloody cat.

Borat, the German Shepherd, will be travelling down in luxury on a Boeing 737. He’ll probably get an inflight meal, headphones and be able to order a rum and coke or two while Scotto and I will be inhaling dog and cat farts during the long 15 hour road trip.

Naturally, we’ll have to stop overnight halfway through the odyssey and Willy and the cat, will spend the night in kennels whilst the other two dogs stay with us in a PET MOTEL.

There is a lovely lady called Jane, who walks past our house every day and my cat literally runs out to meet her as if it’s just escaped from a volatile hostage situation and Jane is with the Tactical Response Unit. My cat proceeds to rub itself all over Jane in a very undignified manner for some reason.

“Do you want her?” I asked Jane one day. “We’re leaving town soon and she’s getting old and I don’t want to take her,” I said, gesturing at the For Sale sign in case she’d missed it.

Jane spoke to her husband who was standing across the road (with a cautiously suspicious expression on his face). Then she informed me she’d love to take the cat.


But then later I remembered how the cat had delivered and cared for her kittens all by herself and how I’d wept and been inordinately impressed with her innate mothering skills when it had happened (thirteen bloody years ago) and how, even though in all the ensuing years she’s done pretty much NOTHING to impress me, I couldn’t give her away after all.

I had to inform Jane yesterday that I had decided to keep her and I saw the cat hiding in the bushes with a big knowing smirk on its face.

Happy Valentine’s day, Cat.

Have you ever moved with animals and do you have any tips for settling them in?