Yesterday, a stranger came to look at the house we’ll be leaving when we move up to 555. It’s still months away, but we’ve put the word out that we’re looking for someone to replace us. Mr. Yasuda, our landlord, will appreciate continued rent income and this is a good “starter house” for someone new to the area.
Tidying up the house for a prospective renter is different than tidying up for dinner guests. I had a good look around from the point of view of someone hoping to live here and I came to a conclusion:
The cats have taken over the house.
Every room has accommodations for our furry housemates. There are as many cat doors as people doors. The engawa hall is their dining room and pantry. Our bedroom has one human bed, two cat beds, and a scratching post. In the living room are the beanbags they claim as their own, and the fusuma paper door on the closet is clawed to shreds (note to self, plan to repaper that before you leave). In the kitchen, I parked a stool near the heater to give Fritter a warm place to sit while he watches me cook.
Upstairs in the office studio there’s a cardboard cat tower, food bowls in the kitchen, a cushioned box, a cat door to the veranda, and piles of blankets that the cats curl up on when they can’t get into the closet to nap on the guest futons. And they have already claimed the chairs we brought back from UltraBob’s this weekend, not to mention their “all laps belong to cats” rule.
There are three of them and only two of us. I don’t think we can win this.