Since their move, my cats have undergone a fundamental personality change.
Where once they could not bear to share the same space – hardly even the same house – they will now concede to share the same bed – mine – without so much as the hint of a spat never mind a full scale, fur flying, brawl.
Had I not heard the details of their transit to Outpost I would have been bemused.
A needlessly embarrassed friend, he who was arm-twisted into permitting my cats space on a flight he was making to Outpost, asked me, subsequent to the cats travels, whether my cats were behaving oddly at all. I had not seen them at that point but as far as husband could tell, they seemed perfectly well and remarkably relaxed about relocation.
Oh good said friend, visibly relieved.
I pressed him for details.
It transpired that on Check In, he had plonked briefcase, shoes, watch, belt, cell phone and – unwittingly – cat box onto conveyor belt into x-ray machine. It was a few seconds before he realized what he’d done and then only because airport security went mad as two feline skeletons showed up on the screens.
Aaaaagh! screamed the woman operating the machine, ‘what do you think you are you doing? You cannot put animals through the security x-ray!’ Several astonished tourists witnessed the proceedings as did my friend’s travel companions who suggested, laughing hard, that he may have a problem explaining to cats’ owner – me – that he’d nuked her pets.
I cannot decide whether the cats new found friendship is because their cerebral chemistry has been affected by irradiation or because the trauma of same has forged an alliance that previously did not exist.
No matter. For the house is more peaceful this way.