A couple of weeks ago I finally found a refrigerator small enough to fit in my little house. It's adorable, a Frigidaire that's old enough, probably, to count as an antique. I got it at a used furniture store in Warsaw and last Friday morning, before I went to work, my nephew Joe and I took his truck over and picked it up. We brought it home, wrestled it into the house (it's really heavy!) plugged it in and then I had to run to get to work on time.
Now, I have three cats, two queens and a tom. And, because I always try to be a basically kind person, I'm not going to say Blondie, the tom, is an abject coward. Let us say, instead, that he is cautious and discrete. Discrete as in, at the first sign of anyone but me on the property, he bolts for the bed, slithers under the covers, and cowers at the foot until they are gone and it's safe to come out. So, as you might expect, while Joe and I were fighting with the refrigerator, Blondie was keeping his head down.
I wasn't surprised that the move was traumatic for him, but I was dismayed to realize, when I got home, that he was still afraid of the refrigerator! (And he still is.) Every time I go anywhere near it, he panics and hides. Finally I figured out, I think, what he's thinking. I just don't know what to do about it. See, with his head under the covers, he never saw my nephew leave.
So, how do I convince him that I'm not keeping Joe in the refrigerator, waiting to get him? :-/