As soon as the big Travelift drove into the slip toward EV we realized the noise and commotion would send Izzy over the edge. I considered putting her into the car carrier, but at the last minute I just picked her up, grabbed her leash and leapt off the boat. And even though I would have prefered to watch the lifting of our home I left that to Jack and carried Izzy through the gravel boatyard to the park across the street.
It’s hot here. Really hot. I found a bench in the shade, sat down and put Izzy on the ground, leash attached. As always, she hunkered down, sad and fearful. No amount of sweet-talking could get her to appreciate that she was on land and that there were bugs and birds around. She cried and wanted to be picked up and reassured.
While the crew powerwashed the boat Jack came over and added his words of encouragement. No dice. The most Izzy has ever done while tethered is to slither toward something to hide under. Jack went back to the boat and I tried picking Iz up to follow and watch the proceedings. Suddenly she didn’t want to be picked up, but rather walked toward the nearby community center. I followed. She circled the small building, smelling all the strange smells, examining the strange plants and sandy soil. It was like walking with a 2-year-old, which of course she is. I couldn’t persuade her to come along with me; I had to go at her pace, where she wanted. It was an exercise in patience.
With each side of the building she seemed to gain confidence, or maybe found things that looked or smelled familiar. We made it almost around the building when we came to a glass entry door and Izzy perked up. This was definitely familiar! She had a similar door at our house in Pittsburgh. And one just like it at her foster home with the Schulzes. And again, the same kind of glass door at the Strife’s in New Jersey. On the other side of that door must be food and water and cool places to sleep and to hide and toys to play with! All she had to do it sit there and someone inside would let her in. And so she sat. And waited.
When no one came, Izzy peered inside, walking back and forth to get a better view. I think she’d be there still if I hadn’t got curious about the state of Escape Velocity and ended the stakeout.
I think we made real progress today. We got to the boat and Izzy was pleased to be back in familiar surroundings. She didn’t even freak out when the mechanic came aboard to assess the rudder access. It helped that he’s a cat person and did his best to woo her.
Good Izzy. She might be an adventure kitty after all.