An Exercise in Futility

As part of this epic move I am about to make, I am attempting to train my kitties to not hate their carriers. I do this for their benefit but really, I don’t think that I can handle 12 hours of cat crying. I went all out. Everyone gets their own brand new, color coded, mesh kitty carrier.

Cats are smart. I so much as opened the packages and Isabelle bolts for underneath the bed. She is immediately followed by Skinny. Only Sonni remains – she is unfazed, defiant even. Sonni has moxie and I love that about her. Today is the first day of training. I strategically place the carriers, open, across the room in the hopes that my reluctant felines will eventually give in to their curiosity. I hear that cat’s have curiosity in spades. The empty carriers would indicate otherwise.

But I have more tricks up my sleeve. I no sooner make my way to the refrigerator than Sonni is at my feet. She knows what will happen next. I reach for the saucers. Excitement builds. Sonni begins to meow as if she hasn’t been fed in a month. That does it. Isabelle and Skinny emerge from the bedroom. Milk is indeed the great motivator. I place a saucer of milk inside each carrier – so that they will have to crawl in to reach it.

Sonni eagerly dives into her crate. Super. Skinny, to my surprise, lurches into his and with great trepidation and drinks. He didn’t finish all of the milk but anyone who knows this nutbag will understand that it was a great triumph. Isabelle basically told me to go jump off a bridge. Milk or no milk, she won’t come within 4 feet of the thing. Day 1…. Kristin: 0, Cats: 1.

At least that is what I thought until I saw this…

I think she likes it

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