Mr. Anxiety or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Trust the Cat

Welcome to the Wednesday Cats of Catster! Every week, we share a story from one of our cat-loving Catsters. This week is about Wes and his fiercely cuddly Russian Blue, Raphael.

Parents get it wrong all the time. When we’re children, we assume they have all the answers. Then, as we grow, we assume they have none. Since becoming a cat parent, I’ve realized the dynamic is not exclusive to human relationships. Moving flats recently taught me to be less anxious and less intense, and to trust Raphael will be okay in the end.

I don’t think there is a single person in the world who actively enjoys moving. Now, not everyone feels negatively about moving; some are neutral. And most like the feeling of a new home, a new experience, but the move itself? It will be a long search for someone who enjoys one of those. Well, if that’s how we feel, imagine how poor Raphael must feel.

Steph and I recently needed to move flats in London, and it was a truly harrowing endeavor. I’ll leave aside the extraneous details because this is meant to be a relaxing chat about cat life and not a rant about DIY. Safe to say, though, what was meant to be a relatively simple set of tasks turned into a nightmare. From paint to floors and even plug sockets, everything that could go wrong found a way to inconveniently do so.

All of this is to say that by the time the move was “on,” after months of delay, we were wired into a frenzy of stress and anxiety (surely, moving companies have the most difficult customers in the world?). As you’ll be aware from our previous chats, Raphael is generally a very relaxed cat, but even he could sense the shared tension.

Of course, something that exacerbated the tension was my desire to make the process easier for Raphael.

Before the move, I read as much as possible on Catster.com regarding how to help Raphael move comfortably. In fact, in the run-up to the move, it was my main point of focus. A couple of the things I considered were:

1. Taking his favorite blankets and spreading them around the new flat a few days in advance to send his scent through the space.

2. Purchasing plug-in pheromone diffusers and allowing them to work for a day in advance.

3. Gently wiping his face with a cloth and then rubbing the cloth on surfaces in the new space at ‘cat height.’

While crouched down, rubbing his blankets on our brand-new floor, I did have a moment of self-doubt. However, I quieted that voice and pressed on. On the day of the move itself, we continued with our hard work:

1. We put him in his harness and a carrier, just in case anything went wrong.

2. We kept him in his safe space for as long as we feasibly could, right up until the landlord’s cleaners came to clear the space.

3. After moving, we initially isolated his available space, while he relaxed into the new environment.

And these are only the items I’m comfortable sharing…

Now, I have to admit something at this stage. Steph felt I was being too anxious. You’d be mistaken if you were under the impression she cares any less about Raphael than I do, but she believed that as a reasonably adventurous cat, and a calm one at that, he’d take to the move without a problem. However, I think the stress of the upcoming move had driven me into an anxious frenzy, and this was my outlet.

I hate to say it, dear reader. I think she was correct.

Once we released him from his carrier-shaped prison and allowed him to explore, he had a whale of a time. He was super relaxed, exploring and sniffing to his heart’s content. Trotting this way, and cantering that way. Climbing here, and hopping there. Totally and utterly in his element. In fact, he was more distressed at being in a different room from us while the unpacking was going on. Kept from the action, “benched” by the team managers at the most interesting part of the game.

With one raise of the eyebrow and a curl of her lip, I knew what Steph was trying to tell me, without saying it explicitly.

Now, my retort was quick as a flash. Prepared and professional. With a casual air, I retorted, “Well, of course, we don’t know the counterfactual. If I hadn’t bought those diffusers, I’m sure he’d be having a terrible time right now.”

As I watched him rolling around on the floor with his toy, did I believe my own words? I wouldn’t want to comment…

What I do know is this: it taught me that Raphael is far more capable, comfortable, and accomplished than I give him credit for. He’s always rolled with the punches before, and this was no exception. I think he became an outlet for my own anxieties, and that was a mistake. Did my efforts help him feel more comfortable? I’m sure they did, and do I regret trying? Definitely not. However, in the future, I’ll be a little more trusting of our calm companion.

To make me feel better, please tell me about a time you moved with a pet and felt too anxious!