While in Tennessee getting ready to make our transatlantic move, several of our friends asked what we would be doing with our kitty Silly Millie. Actually we have had our cat for nine years. But we didn't think that moving her so far, and being in planes and airports for twenty-four hours would be very good for her. First my late mother's caregiver Agnes wanted her, and we began to make plans for her to move in with them. Then one of her daughters got another pet and they decided that Millie may not get along so well. It wasn't long after that that another friend who already had a cat asked if she could have Millie, we said sure. And then she backed out after a trial run with her cat, and they didn't get along at all. A few other friends said they would be glad to take our kitty. But as our departure grew closer, we decided that she would be better off with us, because she has never really had that social-butterfly type personna. She would hiss at strangers when they would come to visit. And she hated children. The funny thing is, now she actually likes people, children included. I think the commotion of packing and getting rid of stuff the months prior to our move bothered her so that shes just happy to be stable again. So we got her shots, bought a kennel and moved her some five thousand miles to Belgium. I hadn't seen Millie in over a month, but when Paula got off the plane and we picked up our kitty at baggage claim. Millie took one look at me and was happy again. We took her into our home, she sniffed around a couple of places looked at the both of us and jumped up on our bed and went straight to sleep. Back in the US she never wanted to sleep on our bed, but since coming to Europe she hasn't wanted to sleep anywhere else. She's just happy that the three of us are reunited. And so am I . . .
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