Home Is Where The Cat Is
He’s here. He seems oddly settled already, though rather clingier than he’d usually be with me. He follows me from room to room and spends a lot of time rubbing against my legs. But when I’m settled for a bit he’s started making brief sorties to other parts of the house. He didn’t want to eat at first, but did once I sat on the floor with him beside his bowls.
I can’t imagine what he thought was going on during the entire bizarre process of leaving London this morning and traveling to San Francisco, but I’m over the moon that he’s here.
One down, just The Mrs to go.