If you live behind a curtain in a laundry room because the upstairs cat wants you dead, your life probably has room for improvement.
My plan was to show up at Grandma Meow Meow's furry space down in our basement behind the laundry room curtain with a vacuum cleaner. I would rearrange some boxes, cover the walls with blankets and fluff up her pillows. Cozy the place up to be more like the inside of Jeannie's bottle than the spider infested storage area that it truly is.
Considering Tuna, the teenager hurls himself at the door at the bottom of the steps daily, trying to break it down, makes it seem only fair.
Because it is not Grandma's fault that she ran out of homes.
That she just keeps on ticking.
And that she is a legend.
After many years of clean living she deserves a break.
By the grace of God, for the most part Grandma is unaware of Tuna's noisy attempts to knock the door off it's hinges. She could use a new pair of hearing aides. But they are not included in her assisted living contract.
And she cannot afford part D.
I hauled the vacuum down the stairs to begin the daunting project of sucking up spider webs.
Grandma Meow followed me around with her shaggy feet padding along.
She loves company, even if it is just me, the head cook, the house keeping department and the activities director.
That is when it hit me.
"Grandma," I said spinning around almost tripping over her. "What about the sauna?"
Decades ago I requested a hot tub.
My sweet Sven put in a sauna.
These two things are very different from each other.
One is fun.
The other is not.
Anyway, it is a cute little cedar room with benches and lights and a burnt out motor.
I opened the door.
Grandma strolled in.
"This is cool," she said by hopping onto the top bench and prancing back and forth.
"It's right next to the restroom too," I said.
Well, we got real excited right about then, because Sven happened to be in the area and he said, "Yes, Grandma can have the room."
Meow Meow and I were all a twitter as we began the big move.
You don't need Three Men and a Truck when you have An Old Lady and a Cat. We had her all moved in and her new apartment decorated that same afternoon.
But here is the thing about little old ladies with their prissy white gloves and church hats with flowers.
They always want more.
Now Grandma demands two outings to the upstairs every day and she doesn't give a shit if the other cat has to sit outside in the cold while she visits.
She would also like to have her dining area, now located right out her front door, updated.
"It would be nice to have a flat screen TV over there on the wall," she's been hinting. "You know, for when I have company. And how about an area rug?"
It is hard for me, her company, to argue with her.
She actually comes up with some pretty damn good ideas for an old cat.
"Sven?"
Hmm.
Where did he disappear to?
I can never seem to find that man any more.
More stories about Grandma
Great Grandma Meow Meow Moves In
A Love Triangle