Guest Blogger, Neville

We arrived in France on Monday and are busy getting settled in our new (to us) home, so I have asked Neville to be a guest blogger today and share his thoughts on our recent move.

Hi, I’m Neville.

I don’t understand why humans can’t stay put. Until a few weeks ago I had a comfortable home in the USA with all of my favorite things, a fireplace, a catio, cozy places to nap, and lots of people came to visit me, so why did my pet parents have to move all the way to France? Let me tell you about getting here, which was quite traumatic.

At first I thought the sudden appearance of dozens of boxes in the house was for my benefit. Like most cats, I have a thing for boxes; they’re great for playing and sleeping in. However, I started getting suspicious when my pets started putting things in the boxes and taking them away.

Soon larger items started disappearing too, like tables, chairs, the couch, beds, and other things I have grown accustomed to.

I guessed we were getting new furniture, and I would be busy getting it broken in. But alas, that wasn’t the case. Not long after everything in the house was taken away, and it was completely empty, I was put in the carrier and taken to the home of my pet mom’s sister. I have been there before, so it wasn’t too much of an adjustment. They have two small humans, who are pretty nice, they don’t scream or pull my tail like some small humans do. They pet and play with me, so I figured I could adjust to my new home.

However, they have a dog – yuck. But I didn’t see her very often, so I figured this wasn’t too bad of a situation and started settling in.

But like most humans, they can’t stay put, and I started getting suspicious when the suitcases came out again, just a few weeks after we arrived. And of course, I was shoved into the carrier again and taken to a place called Seatac International Airport. I do not recommend ever going to this place; it’s noisy, chaotic, and the humans there don’t listen.

I tried telling everyone to take me home, but no one would listen. Lots of humans came up to my carrier and cooed and talked to me, telling me I am a handsome feline, which of course, I am, but no one would do what I asked.

But wait, it gets worse; my pets took me onto a plane. I have never been on one before and I hope I NEVER have to be on one again. And while my pets were sitting in what looked like comfortable chairs, I was shoved under the seat in front of them. I kept trying to get the attention of the human sitting above me but again, to no avail.

Soon the plane started moving faster and faster, the engines were screaming, and I truly thought we were all going to die right then and there. The weird thing was that the humans around me looked totally relaxed; my pet dad was even asleep! Hello!?!? Didn’t everyone realize we were all about to die?? But soon it felt like we were flying, we didn’t die, and it quieted down a bit, but I was stuck on that thing for ten hours; it was sheer torture. However, I guess I have to admit that I did manage to take a nap.

When we finally got off the plane, in a place called Charles de Gaulle International Airport (I strongly suggest you never go to this place either) everyone was talking strangely, it was also noisy and chaotic, like the other airport. I was not a happy camper.

After leaving the airport we drove for four hours; I thought I’d never get out of that damn carrier. But eventually we stopped and I was taken into a strange house where I was finally released. There was a nice human there who showed my pet parents around. He spoke the language I am familiar with, but in a funny way. My pet parents say he is from England; I guess they talk differently there.

At this point my pets started unpacking and putting things away. They brought some of my toys, and other things I’m familiar with which made me feel a little at home.

SIGH. I’m slowly getting use to this house which my pets tell me is over two hundred years old. It’s really quiet and I can see lots of mice and birds from the windows, so maybe I’ll get to go outside one day and have some fun. Hmm, do French mice taste different than American mice? I hope to find out. So maybe it won’t be so bad after all. Time will tell.

Neville

March 28, 2023 – Update

We’ve been living in France for one year now and I love it here. I get to go outside where I eat grass, catch mice, watch the birds, and roam freely. I even played with a snake one evening last summer. Sometimes, I find mice in our house. I catch them in the night and bring them to my pet parents, but they get so upset when I do that; sheesh! I’m just doing my job. Maybe someday they’ll appreciate my efforts.

Here are a few photos of me in my new home.

So, even though it was tough getting here, I’m glad we moved; I like France. If you want to see more pictures of me you can follow me on Instagram at nevilleofnormandie.

Neville