Picking up from checking into the lovely pensione in the Oltro Arno area.
After getting settled in we head out to find a shop where we can get some things like snacks and water but most important I needed a litter box for Bear. It was 7 pm, I hadn't been to Florence in 2 years and had no idea where to go. We start walking the street toward the Ponte Vecchio and come across a small grocery type store halfway btwn a 7-11 and a supermercato. Since living here I discovered they are everywhere, usually quite small but also usually have most basic necessities cat litter among them.
We bought some wine and eats and a bag of litter and a turkey basting tinfoil type pan except it was more the size for a few Cornish hens. Ok so you have to buy the plastic bags for like .04 cents or something, but one bag does not hold a 10 lb. bag of litter without splitting, another bag and another, plus I had to arrange it that in no way could they tell when we walked passed reception that I had a roaster pan and litter in my bag. How weird would that look. A ham sandwich placed very strategically on top and my wares were incognito.
We get back to the room , had been gone maybe 45 min and he is gone. Bear appears to be gone. We ripped that room apart and could not find him anywhere. I kept saying where is he, where's Bear? Even Robin, who does not like cats but had become somewhat fond of Bear (when he doesn't make her sneeze) had a look of worry. For 15 minutes (which seems like hours), we looked and looked , behind the drapes, in the bathroom behind furniture, under her bed, under my bed, must have looked under that bed in the main room 58 times, no sign of him.
OMG, Mossimo found us out and confiscated my cat!!!! Robin said you think? I do ,I really do ,where else would he be.Just then, the slightest movement from the big bed area. I ask, " did you see that?" I just looked under there. I run over, drop to my stomach and look again. There is nothing. The bed moves just a bit again, still nothing. Then I see it, the bulge in the box spring, a bulge that could only be made by a 18 lb cat who some how had crawled in. He's here, he's here, as I push him to prod him to come out but NO that cat would not move. His claws were out and he was dug in for the long haul.
Robin says OMG I can't freakin ( well she was more colorful, cleaning it up) believe him. The space to which he crawled in was so small I couldn't get my full arm in, I could not figure out how he got in there. Well, we had to get him out.I tried and I tried to push him through the material to move and he just would not budge. Poor thing was scared. I had to get him out, I mean cat is stuck. Somewhat of a moral dilemma in the way of damaging someone else's property. This is what we do.
When I packed for this move I dumped one of my kitchen junk drawers in a bag and threw it in my luggage. You all have one , that drawer that has a bit of everything to the point that you can go Let's Make a Deal and Win. Well good thing I did, because in that bag was an X-acto knife and purple electrical tape. You can pretty much guess where this is going.
The large bed is actually 2 twins pushed together, common in Italy. We pull the beds apart and turned the one bed over on it's side. Like a highly skilled plastic surgeon I CUT ( yes, I said cut) OPEN the bottom of the box spring. A very neat and precise L along the wood slats in order to get Bear out. I sealed it up with that purple electrical tape.
Now I felt horribly guilty ( still to this day) about this because every person working there from the owner to the breakfast lady and the reception people were calling their friends to find us an apartment and we go and desecrate their property. In my defense I did a really good job and who looks under the box spring anyway.
Bear on a bed instead of stuck in one
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