When Tungsten first came to live with me, we got in the habit of looking out windows together. I would hold her and ask, “What do you see?” That came to mean ‘look out the window’, as much as a literal question. Each of my cats hears the same inquiry now, usually while they are at a window, peering out.
The views available to them have changed. During the time that I have had cats, I have lived in three different residences. My current address has the most restricted prospects; even the previous apartment in which we lived was on the fourth floor, and so the vistas available were greater.
But the cats are making do, as they will. There are neighbours across the alley, and crows that haunt the roof of the house near by. I intend to attract more birds for the cats’ entertainment, either by erecting a bird-feeder or simply tossing seed on to the ground in front of my windows, as another tenant in the building does.
I am afraid that the beasts will miss the greater opportunities afforded by the windows of the house. Tucker would lie on one of the tallest cat-tree’s platforms at dusk and watch the tail-lights of automobiles driving past, and all the cats liked seeing the neighbourhood dogs being walked down the street. Times change, however, and so does one’s outlook.
The beasts have settled into the new residence much better than I had anticipated. Cammie surprises me by now and then running through the rooms just for fun, as she did in the house, and even my big boy barrels about, often ending by jumping onto the bed and from there to a window-side cat-tree. Josie is finding new comfort on the dining table chairs - and sometimes the dining table - while Tucker fights with the toys scattered about and is his usual silly self.
I am grateful that they have been untroubled by the move. Perhaps, then, when I ask myself the question, “What do you see?”, the answer ‘contented cats’ is what I hope may be given.