Ever hear the phrase, happy as a nine-pound cat in a five-pound box? Missy illustrates that point. She is a sucker for any box she can cram her somewhat pudgy self into. Not that I'm judging her chubbiness, mind you, my body has definitely blossomed over the years as well, those extra treats play havoc with both kitty and me. I am just not quite as fond of squishing myself into spaces which seem as if they would burst at the seams, as this poor shoebox looks like it's about to do.
Shadow here looks like the box was measured to hold her. Even tho Shadow is 5 years old, she still looks like an older kitten, smaller than your average cat, and lacking much more than a stub of a tail. This box is positively roomy for her.
Between the two of them, I feel more like Missy in our current condo. I count my blessings regularly to have our own home, but every year our girls get bigger, our condo feels like it's getting smaller. We intended to upgrade to a house in a few years when we bought our condo. That was almost 24 years ago, and the opportunity to move to that larger home with yard just didn't materalize. We managed to raise our two daughters and cats in our two-bedroom, 1000 sq. foot abode, and have many happy memories here. Squished as it is, our girls talk about how they'll miss it when we leave. As we consider our next move after my upcoming retirement, we talk about finally being able to upgrade to a larger home, at a time when other families are considering downsizing.
Keep your cozy boxes, I am looking forward to having room to sprawl out. Wish me luck finding our perfect place.