A Broken Promise, A Sad Kitty, and Deck Chairs In My Living Room

The move to San Antonio, Texas, from Perth, Western Australia didn’t go exactly as planned. Although I had left the Land Down Under on a wish and a prayer with my 16-year-old kitty cat in tow, the promise of a new life had yet to materialize.

After some frustrations trying to get an apartment rental with only a bank account statement to show sufficient funds and no current employer, some angels disguised as apartment managers gave me a shot. I had been living in a motel for ten days after a few weeks of sleeping on a friend’s blow-up mattress and was tired of being in limbo as I searched desperately for homes and jobs.

On the day we moved in, however, things didn’t go exactly as planned! In fact, they were downright disastrous.

Arriving at the complex at the pre-arranged time of 10 am, I was informed that my apartment was not yet ready. Apparently, it needed some work done after the last tenant left and the cleanup was still in progress. I was assured that this would be done by 5 pm when I was welcome to return. After the high of the drive and the anticipation of settling into a glorious space of our own, I hit a brick wall of pure frustration and quickly spiralled downwards.

The dilemma of what to do with my little cat, who could not spend the day in a hot car with me, forced my mind to run a gamut of options.

“Can I shut him in the bathroom of the apartment until the painting and carpets are ready?” I asked hopefully.

“No, we can’t be responsible for that,” she replied emphatically.

“Are there any empty apartments that I could leave him in until my apartment is ready?” I pleaded.

“Unfortunately, we’re not allowed to do that,” she said with a little regret in her eyes.

I knew no one would know and that she was quite able to do this, but concern over stumbling into the gray area of American suing culture caused her to make a choice I could see she didn’t want to make. I said I needed a moment to think and disappeared upstairs to the tenants’ lounge to figure out a solution. Jaime was still locked in the car and the day was heating up.

I had a thought and quickly pulled out my cellphone, searching for vets nearby who would be able to rent me a cage for the day. There was one a few hundred metres up the road.

“Yes, we have space for him,” the kind voice drawled in a southern twang after I quickly rattled off my dilemma, “our day rate is $24.”

“Thank you so much, you are a lifesaver,” I said relieved. “We’ll be over soon.”

We headed off to the vet and I checked Jaime in for the day, opening a can of food after he was loaded into the tiny cage. He just looked at me. He was tired and not interested in my excuses anymore, staring at me in total disbelief. Jaime had travelled alone for three days to get to the US, been subjected to an uncomfortable living situation after his journey, and had just spent ten days in a motel room.

He turned his back and lay down.

It broke my heart.

I took one last pleading look and left, knowing that I was doing the best I could under the circumstances.

I headed off to Walmart to get the basics we needed; groceries, simple cookware, a folding tray table to set the small TV on I had purchased a few days before, and a set of towels for the bathroom. I spent twenty minutes trying desperately to fit everything into the eight-seater 2002 army green Ford Explorer I had affectionately named Melissa.

The best place for me to wait out the remainder of the day was Starbucks as I could grab a coffee and study. It was there I got the call to say that our apartment wouldn’t be ready that day! Just as I was getting ready to lose the last bit of restraint I had shown all day, she told me that they had a solution.

“There’s another apartment ready,” she said. “The tenant is only going to move in on Tuesday next week so we called him to ask if he was happy to switch. He said it wasn’t a problem.”

I could have kissed her, elation dripping from my tongue as I thanked her profusely.

“I’m on my way,” I said, quickly packing up my laptop and grabbing my car keys before sprinting back to my car.

With another burst of gratitude to the lovely ladies who were doing their best to help me out, I wound Melissa through the roads of the complex to the rear where I found our new home. Grabbing a few things from the car I let myself into the new space.

The relief of the moment flooded through me. Feeling totally overwhelmed, I almost burst into tears. After months of living with others, constant movement, the uncertainty of my future, and too many stumbling blocks to count, I was finally home.

I could rest a while.

Running up and down a flight of stairs, slowly emptying the contents of the car onto the living room floor was just the physical exertion I needed after a rollercoaster of a day. I wanted to pick Jaime up as soon as possible as he was still locked in the cage at the local vet, so I hustled up and down the steps as fast as my legs could carry me, dropping items wherever I could find an empty space.

Bolting to the local Walmart to pick up a few cold items and a bunch of flowers for the women at the front desk as a thank you, I raced to the vet. I couldn’t stop smiling as I lifted his tired little body and hugged him to my chest before gently placing him back in his travel cage.

“Not long now baby boy, we’re going home,” I crooned.

The minute drive back to the complex, typing in my gate code, and winding along the backroads to our new home felt like an eternity. Taking my kitty up the stairs to our little piece of paradise and letting him out of his travel crate, however, felt like manna from heaven. Seeing him sniff a few of the new items before settling down on the newly laid carpet and looking up at me with peace and contentment, was one of the best moments of my life.

The relief I felt at finally being in our own space in a place I had dreamed of for so long, and looking towards a future I was excited about, all came together in the moment Jaime looked up at me with love and gratitude.

I dropped to my knees and kissed him before busying myself unpacking and creating a comfortable space for us to sleep that night. The stress and frustration of the previous few months drained out of me as I made up the new foam mattress on the floor of the bedroom.

As a final touch, I set up two camping chairs in the middle of the living room, pointing them squarely at the small TV. I couldn’t justify buying a couch until after I got a job.

I took a step back and looked around with a great deal of satisfaction and pride, surveying my wonderful, and sparsely decorated, new pad. After pouring myself into a hot shower, I plopped down in one of the deck chairs and settled Jaime into the other as I rested my hand wearily, but gratefully, on his soft fur.

After three long months, we were finally home.

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.