Crying Wolf Keeps Oliver Trapped In A Room

I’ve got my home office, which doubles over as my workout space, the way I want it for the most part. Once my uncle can practice carpentry again, I’m going to have him build me some shelves. Once I have the shelves, I will display about a thousand items I have collected over the years. I also want to paint the room yellow; there’s something I thought I would NEVER type, take up the carpet in there if there’s hardwood underneath, and shine it up real good. I probably will get a rug, but I’m getting new curtains at some point. These ideas are all in my head right now, alongside a much-needed new desk. Patience is a virtue right now in my case. I know that eventually, this will all look the way I want it to look. The other thing I know is I want to change up my actual bedroom some too, but that’s another blog post for another day.

Since getting this room the way I want it/the only option I have now without the shelves, my pets have essentially seen this room as a new playground. However, I learned today that the room is not big enough for the three of them as the cats will leave if the dog enters. Cocomo loves laying in there and sleeping with me as I type. Willow likes to get on my papa’s chair, looking out the window. Is it weird I call it that, considering he passed when I was nine? To me, regardless of it being reupholstered or not, it’s always going to be his chair. And then there’s Oliver.

Oliver loves to lay on the floor. He loves to sit on the exercise bike seat, sit in the chair, and/or glare at me from the exercise seat for sitting in the chair. Ollie also loves to look out the window, walk along with the window, sit on the top part of the chair, and just about anything else he can get into currently. The funny part of this is that Oliver is not a prominent explorer. He’s my scaredy-cat to the core. The fact that Ollie doesn’t still jump and hide at loud sounds during horror films anymore is honestly a miracle. Or maybe he has gotten used to the fact I’m not going to quit watching The Walking Dead finally or numerous horror films in October now.

Regardless, I’m not used to thinking of looking for him in that room. No one in the house is yet. And yesterday, we kept hearing him meow randomly. His meow wasn’t distressed or anything. He sounded fine until the last meow. The last meow was as if he were saying, “WHAT THE HELL HUMANS?” The reason why of course, was that my dad had closed the door because I wasn’t in there. However, Ollie had been in there for probably a good three to four hours. When my dad let him out, he proceeded to tell him that I did not love him and that it was all my fault he was stuck in there. Insert eye roll here.

I feared that he wouldn’t want to come back into the room with me, or by himself for that matter, but this morning when I got on my exercise bike, he followed me and then explored some more because that’s his thing now. The room belongs to him now, but he lets me exercise in it and write, so he’s a good cat like that! So gracious and giving my little Ollie Bollie. But seriously, I feel kinda bad that he was in there so long, and we had no clue because of my cleaning tirade to the house this week. Fingers crossed this won’t happen again.  Well, not happen again any time soon because I’m sure for a while until I’m used to going in and out of there more often, someone will shut the poor cat up in there again. Y’all pray we think of him meowing as being stuck.

There was also a failed attempt to do a photoshoot with Oliver that you can see below. My goal was to get an updated picture instead of when the chair went into the room originally. For my lose today.

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