Cute cat story. You've been warned.
Daniel and I were house- and cat-sitting all last week in Cambridge, which is about an hour away by train (far less by car, but that's Boston area public transportation for you). Lulu is an old, crabby cat who hisses at everything and goes from "pet me!" to biting your hand in a few seconds. And Bast help you if you don't let her sleep in Her Spot (conveniently located on the guest bed, which we were using). So I was a little surprised when she spent Sunday morning following us around and meowing as we packed to leave. We let her outside on the way out, and she began to follow us across a couple of streets. We'd walk faster, but she'd just keep on keepin' on, eventually catching up to us if we stopped. But the last time we stopped to see what she was doing, she stopped, too - right in the middle of the road, with a car coming. Clearly, we could not have this cat following us all the way to the train station. Even if she made it alive, would she know how to get home? So I did the run-at-her-and-hiss thing, thinking if we startled her, she'd change her mind about following us. And she did - she went to the far side of the street, sat down, and watched us go.
A few hours later, her owners (S and G) came home, and S called us, somewhat distraught. Where was Lulu? She didn't come running when they got home. Could she have followed us all the way to the train? We had no clue - we'd stopped looking after we turned the corner, and I was anxious just thinking about her following us all that way, across a couple of very busy streets. We said we weren't sure, so S said she'd make a quick sweep of the neighborhood and call us back. Within five minutes, she called again. She'd found Lulu: on the very corner where we'd last seen her, apparently waiting for us to come back.
It's like something from the Hallmark channel, or one of those Chicken Soup books.
A few hours later, her owners (S and G) came home, and S called us, somewhat distraught. Where was Lulu? She didn't come running when they got home. Could she have followed us all the way to the train? We had no clue - we'd stopped looking after we turned the corner, and I was anxious just thinking about her following us all that way, across a couple of very busy streets. We said we weren't sure, so S said she'd make a quick sweep of the neighborhood and call us back. Within five minutes, she called again. She'd found Lulu: on the very corner where we'd last seen her, apparently waiting for us to come back.
It's like something from the Hallmark channel, or one of those Chicken Soup books.