Out Loud Thoughts

Something very strange was happening downstairs.

Voices echoed through the house. Boxes scraped across the floor. Furniture moved. Doors opened and closed. The basement which was once Eric’s office, where he had spent so many quiet hours, was finally being cleared.

But Marius and Eponine weren’t allowed anywhere near the commotion.

Instead, Karen tricked them in to joining her in her upstairs office where she shut them in.

“This is your safe place,” she said. “I’ll come check on you.”

The office wasn’t a bad place to spend the day, There were bowls of fresh food and cool water. Their litter box was clean. A soft day bed waited and a cat tree stood by the window. Cozy blankets, fluffy pillows, and quiet corners offered plenty of places to nap. Outside the window, birds fluttered, squirrels raced, and leaves danced in the breeze.

Eponine immediately inspected everything.

She jumped onto the windowsill.

Then onto the daybed.

Then onto the highest perch.

Then back down again.

Surely there had to be another room somewhere that Karen had forgotten to open.

She padded to the bedroom door and looked up expectantly.

“Excuse me?” her bright green eyes seemed to ask.

She gave a tiny, polite meow.

Nothing happened.

She meowed again.

Still nothing.

Finally, she flopped dramatically onto her side beside the door, hoping someone would notice how terribly inconvenient this arrangement was.

Marius had a different strategy.

He listened.

Every thump downstairs made his ears swivel. Every unfamiliar voice reminded him why Karen had closed the door.

He remembered how frightening strangers could be.

After a few minutes, he decided the soft blanket beside the window was a much better choice than investigating mysterious noises. Curling into a fluffy circle, he kept one eye half open while pretending not to care.

Every so often, Karen carefully slipped into the room to check on then without allowing escape.

“”Hi Kits,” she said, sitting and offering pets.

Eponine immediately marched over, asking for attention, purring as if she hadn’t seen Karen in days.

Marius waited a moment before joining them. Once Karen’s hand reached him, his loud purr filled the room like a tiny motor.

Karen smiled every time.

“I know,” she told them. “You don’t like being  locked up.”

If only they knew why.

The people downstairs weren’t there to scare them. They were helping Karen with one of the hardest jobs she had ever faced: sorting through the things Eric had lovingly collected over a lifetime.

The basement had been Eric’s space.

His office.

His projects.

His treasures.

Karen’s heart still ached every time she walked downstairs, but she knew the work had to be done.

She also knew something else.

If Marius became frightened, he could disappear into the basement for hours, hidden among stacks of boxes where no one could safely find him.

And if Eponine slipped outside through an open door while movers carried furniture in and out, she might panic and run.

Karen couldn’t bear either possibility.

These two cats weren’t “just pets.”

They were Eric’s cats, too.

They were family.

They had curled beside him, followed him from room to room, accepted his loving scritches, and filled the house with quiet companionship. Now they were helping Karen through days that sometimes felt impossibly lonely.

Keeping them behind one closed door during working days was a very small price to pay to keep them safe.

As afternoon faded into evening, the house slowly grew quiet again.  

No more footsteps.

No more scraping furniture.

No more unfamiliar voices.

Karen finally opened the bedroom door.

Eponine was the first to step into the hallway, tail held high as if she were inspecting whether the humans had managed the house properly.

Marius followed more cautiously, sniffing every corner before deciding everything seemed acceptable.

They wandered downstairs together, discovering familiar rooms that were a little emptier than before—but still home.

Because home wasn’t the furniture.

It wasn’t the boxes.

It wasn’t even the basement.

Home was wherever Karen was.

And wherever they could curl beside her at the end of the day, safe, loved, and together.

That evening, with the strangers gone and the house peaceful once more, Marius settled beside Karen with his comforting rumbling purr. Eponine climbed onto the bed, stretched out close to her, and asked for one more round of pets before drifting off to sleep.

The adventure had been confusing.

It had been a little frustrating.

But Karen had been right.

Sometimes love looks like an open door.

And sometimes, when danger is on the other side, love looks like keeping the door safely closed.