Dear Friends,

Being in the mortgage business, I help people move every day. So when my wife B.J. and I decided to sell our house in Gruene and move back to Austin. I naturally felt prepared for any challenge that might arise. I definitely underestimated how hard it can be to uproot a family—especially with five cats!

On moving day, B.J. and I awoke early and “herded” our cats into the only empty room in the house—along with their litter boxes, food and water bowls, and a few toys. We were still packing the small items that mysteriously appear overnight after you thought you had packed everything. The movers arrived three hours late in a moving van that seemed too small for all of our belongings. They tried to reassure us, saying that we would be amazed how much the truck could actually hold. We now know that their loading method consisted of “cramming” and “stuffing” boxes and furniture into the truck in a way that was truly amazing. The good news is that after throwing away all the damaged items we now have a lot less stuff.

The fifty mile trip to Austin with five cats was nerve-wracking! (You dog owners may not know it, but most cats HATE riding in cars.) Dinky, our largest cat that we thought was mute as she never meows, howled and cried incessantly, accompanied by a feline quartet. On the way, B.J. casually mentioned that the new house “wasn’t quite ready, so we have to stay in a hotel for a few days.”

Since it is impossible to sneak five cats into a hotel, you simply pay the exorbitant charge for their occupancy. Four of our five cats immediately sought places to hide. Noel, our prissy, adventurous cat, hopped onto the king-size bed, curled up against the pillows, and went to sleep. She was also the first out the door the next morning when I left for the office, making it all the way to the crowded lobby before I could catch her by the tail. I told B.J. not to be surprised if someone from the Human Society knocked on the door. After four days, I began to feel a little claustrophobic. I convinced B.J. that the cats would be just fine while the workers finished the final painting. But soon after we arrived with the cats, the burglar alarm sounded and would not turn off. When the police arrived, several neighbors—none of whom we had met—peered out of their houses. The alarm, we discovered, had been tripped by the main circuit breaker that had blown. Soon, the cats gradually emerged from their various hiding places, all except the kitten named Pete. Fearing that he had run off during the commotion, B.J. began frantically searching the neighbors’ yards, tearfully introducing herself and describing Pete to them. Hours later, Pete finally appeared. Apparently he had jumped into one of the open wardrobe boxes and burrowed to the bottom.

Thirty days later, these events seem comical. I have been reminded how stressful moving can be and have renewed empathy for my home-buying clients.

Joe Brown