The living room was filled with cardboard boxes. Most of her possessions were packed carefully away in those boxes. Boxes of every size and shape labelled in large, messy black letters: “books” or “dishes” or, on a few tucked way back into the furthest corner, simply “FRAGILE”. She stood in the doorway between the living room and the rest of the apartment and surveyed the mess with narrowed eyes. Her mouth twisted to one side and she bit at her bottom lip as her eyes scanned the room for anything that no longer belonged. The apartment seemed simultaneously too large and very small with all of her little trinkets tucked efficiently into impersonal detergent and packaged food boxes. The walls were bare except for the numerous dirty fingerprints by each door and the scratched floor was gritty and dusty. It was no longer a home and it felt cold despite the unseasonable  warmth of the early spring day. Behind her a muffled but plaintive meow came through the bathroom door followed by a louder, more disgruntled noise and her expression relaxed as she half-turned towards the sounds.

“Don’t worry, pussles, we won’t forget you!” she called softly as she pulled closed the living room door and stooped to open the cat carriers at her feet. Checking that the bedroom door was also tightly closed, she took a deep breath and slowly reached for the handle. She turned it and pushed the door open and her two black and white cats bounded out and then skidded to a stop as they realized there was nowhere to go. The larger of the two sniffed at the two cat carriers, dismissed them as unimportant, and began to scratch at the door to the living room while staring up at her with huge, round eyes. The smaller one sniffed at her feet and then began to rub himself against her jeans, meowing loudly. She smiled a crooked, goblin smile and bent down to scoop him up. The cat wriggled as she lifted him, flailing his legs and splaying his too-many toes. Her grin deepened as she squeezed him lightly against her chest and then tipped him carefully into his carrier. Then her eyes narrowed and her smile faded as she regarded the larger cat.

This cat was of medium size and common markings of the type often compared to a tuxedo but she was extraordinarily fluffy; a wonderfully luxurious fur that was soft and thick and made her instantly forgiveable. She had flopped over on her side and was now attacking the defiant living room door with both front feet while kicking at whatever she could reach with her back feet. Unfortunately one of the few things she could reach was the carrier now containing her companion and he was having great fun agitating her further by poking at her feet through the air slats. Gingerly, the girl poked the cat in the hindquarters with her big toe aiming to steer her gently into the other carrier but the feisty feline folded in half trying to bite at the offending digit. It is never very productive to fight with a cat you do not actually wish to harm; they will win, or, at least, never quite lose, and the girl steeled herself for the battle ahead.

An unexpected noise distracted them both. From beyond the living room door came the sound of a key turning in the lock and then the door swung inward and a voice called:

“Ready to go?” Using the distraction to her advantage, the girl scooped up the cat and dumped her carefully but unceremoniously into the carrier, bolting the door before she could be swatted at or bitten. Smiling in triumph, she opened the French doors to the living room and said, “Now I am, thanks.”

The man in the doorway crossed the room and gave her a quick kiss before bending over and peering into the larger of the two cat carriers.

“Any trouble?”
She laughed. “You know Mrs. Puss!”

He grimaced slightly and then it turned into a smile and he poked a finger between the bars, letting her nibble at the tip. He glanced at the smaller carrier and jerked his head questioningly towards it. His wife shrugged and bent to peer at the smaller cat who was, unconcerned, cleaning his butt with one back foot sticking straight up in the air.

“He’s fine. Let’s go.”
“Mrs. or Mr?” he asked as he stood.
“Mrs. He moves around too much.” she replied and lifted the larger cage with both hands. Her husband lifted the smaller one and immediately the weight inside shifted drastically to one side. They crossed the living room to the front door and went out into the hallway, locking the door behind them for what was likely the second last time. A plaintive meowing began in the smaller cat carrier and they grinned at each other and headed for the elevators.