Some time later … my human looked at a thing she calls a calendar and had turned quite a few pages … I just knew a lot of days had passed.
In the early morning, the pernickety old woman said, “Ha, I hear the truck. I better go tell them where to park.”
Remembering the whole business in the roof that time ago, I hid.
The pernickety old woman came back inside with two men following her, both grey hairs like my human.
Neither of them took their boots off at the backdoor as is the custom. They walked in and out all through the kitchen, the living room next to it and the sunroom behind both.
The pernickety old woman darted in front of them, rolling up the rugs and getting things out of their way.
When they helped her move the refrigerator into the living room and parked it right in front of my hide-out, I’d had enough.
I scooted out of there and ran zig-zagging like a dervish-cat, circling them, then in front and then behind them. Thinking that if I could trip them over, they’d pick themselves up and go away.
The men just laughed and continued with their flicking measuring devices, pens and notebooks.
You’re surprised? I said they were grey hairs!
My human scooped me up and tucked me under her arm. She slid open a cabinet in the sunroom, took the drawer out completely, and put me in that cave.
“Stay there,” she said. “You out of their way and them out of your face.”
Rita de Heer 