Re-entry

So this morning I hauled about 20 pounds of cat up a flight of stairs and into the elevator. Maybe you think that sounds easy, but I am severely disabled since an inappropriate-to-mention-here incident broke the shit out of my back. Not to mention I have once carried both of my other cats in one carrier, which adds up to approximately 432 pounds of feline, total. But an inappropriately broken back complicates things a bit.

A play-by-play:

1. Set carrier down to strongarm my door closed (it's hard).
2. Pete greets me at the door, because he thinks it goes outside, even though despite his best efforts he has never gotten further than eight feet from the door, and I live on the fourth floor of an enclosed apartment building. No one said he was a smart cat. Pete's brain accounts for maybe .0009 ounces of his total weight.
3. Pete sniffs carrier.
4. Hear hissing from the vicinity of carrier.
5. Wonder where Stuart is.
6. Guestimate that Stuart is under bed.
7. Look under bed.
8. Stuart is indeed under bed.
9. Move carrier approximately 10 feet before I must set it down again because I might die of crippling pain.
10. Rest.
11. Move carrier into bathroom.
12. Shut door.
13. Cannot open door. Worry that I'm going to have to crawl through window between bathroom and kitchen (don't ask).
14. Pry door open.
15. Decide Luca can come into main room if she so chooses.
16. Luca so chooses.
17. Luca chooses to go back into bathroom, because under bed is only other place to hide, and Stuart has laid his claim.
18. Rest.
19. Check on G&L. Gracie is gone. Where could she be?
20. Ah yes, under the tub, curled up in the peeling linoleum, with old (probably lead) paint shavings chipping onto her fur.
21. Leave.

And now I am about to go home and assess the damage. I will report back tomorrow.