Chloe and the new normal

The first step in my home construction project was removing the old steam radiator system and adding a heat pump with a forced air heating and air conditioning unit. Because the old system would be removed before the new system would be installed and I would be without any heat for a week, I waited until warmer weather came. When the contractor arrived one spring morning, I warned him that I have two cats. “But I doubt you’ll see either one,” I said. “They’re shy and will probably stay under the bed while you’re in the house.”

I came home before the contractor had packed up for the day. “I saw one of the cats, for sure,” he laughed. “It’s the little short haired critter. When I was pulling the radiator in the bathroom, I had to move the litter box. I guess it’s her box because she came in and gave me holy hell about it. From that point on, she followed me and my men all over the place, supervising and complaining if we did something she didn’t like.” As if on cue, Annie entered the room and looked at him critically.  I gave him a bag of cat treats so he could give her something to snack on the next day.

Chloe stayed safely under the bed while the contractors worked. When I came home after the second day of the project, she greeted me at the door, whining. Her favorite radiator, the one in the living room window, which has a clear  view of the maple tree with the birdfeeder, had been removed. She paced sadly up and down on the spot where it had been, looking at me and crying. Hoping to ease her distress, I went to the basement and retrieved a wooden tray table. It is about the same height and size as the radiator was. I set it carefully in front of the window, picked Chloe up, and placed her on the table.  She screamed as though the table were made of red-hot steel, threw herself on the floor and looked at me reproachfully, licking her paws.  I went over to the table and put my hand on it. It was a normal wooden tray table, not even tippy. I reached down to pet her. Fearing that I would again place her on the table of doom, she barreled up the stairs to hide under the bed.

Maybe putting some treats on the table would sweeten the deal. I put some cat treats on the table. Chloe paced up and down below the table, whining about my sadistic behavior. Annie leaped lightly up onto the table and ate the treats to Chloe’s dismay. When Annie left the living room, I put more treats on the table. Chloe leaped carefully onto the window sill and perched there precariously, eyeing the treats. Carefully, she stretched out one forepaw, and batted the treats toward her mouth, not letting her paw touch the table. She snapped them up quickly, almost falling off her narrow ledge, staring balefully at me.

The third day of the project, our notoriously unpredictable spring weather turned cold. I woke up, chilly, under the blankets with two cats on top of me. I dressed quickly and discovered the windshield of the car was covered with frost. The weather report promised below-average temperatures, even some snow and sleet, for the next few days. I borrowed a space heater from a colleague and set it in the upstairs study to Annie’s delight. She did a perfect imitation of “kitten on the hearth,” warming first one side and then the other, before the red-hot bars while I knitted and watched DVD’s. Chloe sat in the cold, dark hall and cried.

After a week of work, the project was complete. Instead of radiators, I now have small metal vents in the floor. There’s no more knocking and banging of the metal radiators to announce heat’s arrival. Instead, there’s gentle whoosh of air, so quiet that I strain to hear it. The day I came home to the completed job, Chloe met me at the door. She cried and stared until I followed her upstairs to the bedroom. The she walked me to the bedroom floor vent which was softly blowing warm air. She looked at it, then at me. I held my hand over the vent so the air blew on my palm, then turned my hand, palm up, so Chloe could give it a sniff. She sniffed  thoughtfully, then butted her head against my palm before sniffing the vent directly.  Apparently she was pleased with the result. She led me into the upstairs study to repeat the procedure. We walked slowly and carefully through the house. Palm, sniff. Vent, sniff. Nod of approval. The inspection took about half an hour, but finally, Chloe was satisfied. We had reached the last vent on our tour, the one in the living room. After the final inspection was finished, she leaped into the favorite windowsill, careful not to touch the table of doom. She looked at me quizzically. The weather had warmed up again to seasonal temperatures. I opened the pane so she could enjoy the smell of spring.  I got some cat treats and put them on the table. She batted them carefully to her mouth, avoiding the table’s surface. One last look at the bird feeder before it got dark. She jumped lightly off the window sill and onto the arm of the sofa. I had turned on the floor lamp and the radio, and had just begun to knit. I put down the yarn and scratched her behind the ears as Annie came into the room and leaped up on the sofa cushion beside me. Chloe sighed and snuggled beside me.  “It’s a new normal, but it’s normal,” she seemed to say contentedly. “We’re safe and sound for another day.”