I came home to a dismal, depressing scene of neglect and destruction, no cat, and a frustrating mountain of work.
It could have been worse, but still, it was enough to make me weep. Hours of cleaning and a long therapeutic session of cleaning the paddock restored my space and my sense of hope, but the mountain of work remains ahead.
I think I have a packrat. It ate my rice cakes, made half of a sheepskin vanish, and appeared to be subsisting on flax seed. Clearly, it cares about nutrition. I did not find it’s abode, but I’m sure it’s very well lined. My cat would roll over in her grave, if she had one, at this home invasion.
The other cats clearly need to be encouraged to exercise their feline instincts around the barn. They’ve been hanging around, but they’re not used to me around too. When I came “home” after dinner last night, I scared one cat so bad he fled out the second story window, and I don’t know if he leapt straight out or if he climbed down the outside wall, the way he seems to get in.
I had a choppy sleep, too, waking up often to the sound of scrabbling, and trying with my flashlight to catch a glimpse of the invader, whom I’m calling “Omega-3”. I’m really not into it running across my face in the night or something- that would be entirely too “country” an experience for me.
Doors; windows; lock-up: Urgent!
Happily, I still have bats roosting in the other side of the barn. I’m glad the reno has not totally dislocated them. Build bat house- on list.