That was my first thought as well, mischievous. I really do hope that this is a stealth brag.
Continuing my moving rant: Moving sucks. Moving a husband, 2 hounds and 4 cats into a rental while looking a real place sucks even worse.
We don’t have a fenced yard so the hounds have to be leash walked, which is OK, but they really want to RUN and we haven’t found a place to let them play unleashed.
Steve the house feral had a major set-back when we trapped him. All of the trust we had built up, to the point that he would let us actually hand feed him is gone. He’s currently holed up on the top shelf of his cage while his poor, neglected kitten has to sleep outside the bottom cage door so she doesn’t have to sleep next to the litter box. (the cage doors are open, he’s the one refusing to come out.)
Missy, who liked to go into the basement, now doesn’t trust that the floors aren’t water. She is spending most of her time perched on the single bookshelf that we could fit into this place while scanning the floor and walls for water.
Lucky is badly confused, but is hanging in there. We brought his dinner blanket and he recognizes that, but is so very lost.
My Beloved Butthead is pretty adaptable, but is so busy dealing with all of the evil oil guy stuff that he forgets where things are and is constantly running into things when he gets up in the middle of the night.
Bonus is that just when we get settled in here, we will be moving. FML.

