In preparation for moving Nancy and I are throw out a lot of junk. A LOT
of junk. Including some old, worn furniture that's too shabby to move
with us.

Saturday my brother helped me haul our old sofa to the dump. Seeing that
poor, tired thing in the light of day reinforced that it was way past time
for it to be retired. No problem, we just loaded the pieces into two
pickup trucks (it was a big sectional), and off we went.

Unfortunately I didn't think to ask the kitties for permission before
hauling it off. Everyone is okay with it's being gone except Harri. Harri
used to sleep on the sofa at night, and sit on the back to look out the
window, and use the sofa to jump to the top of the kitty shelf to give me
head-bumps when I go through the front door. She now doesn't have that
wonderful piece of furniture.

Saturday night/Sunday morning my pager kept going off every couple of
hours (I love getting SPAM on my tech support pager). Every time I would
get up and stumble out into the living room, Harri would wrap herself
around my ankles and squeak her heart out, telling me about how some
dastardly hoomin stole her sofa. I would pick her up and cuddle her and
assure her that she'll have a brand new sofa when we get too Iowa, but I
don't think that reassured her.

When I put her back down on the floor and went back to bed without
restoring her sofa, Harri was not pleased. She chose to express her
displeasure by stalking around the living room and up and down the hall
growling. For 5 or 10 minutes, I got to listen to this micro-panther
yowling and screaming in the hallway. Honestly, I never knew my little
baby girl even knew words like that!