The thing with cats, though, is that some of them -- not all of them, I guess -- really orient themselves to places. I have always felt that cats think of people as part of their territory, and it is no secret that cats are territorial by nature.

I am thinking of the little book by the late May Sarton. She and her partner had a pet cat, who was the subject of the book. Forget the title. Of course the tomcat, duly neutered, took over their lives. Then for some reason they had to relocate; they found a suitable home for the cat with people they trusted.

The occasion arose for a reunion meeting. The reunion between the humans went nicely enough. It was different for the cat. You see, it worked out that Sarton and partner travelled to a nearby hotel, rather than stay in someone's home. And for some reason, the new owners of the cat brought the cat to the hotel room, rather than bring Sarton and partner to the cat on the cat's new territory.

So Sarton and partner's last memory of their tomcat was of a very unhappy, uneasy animal in a place he had never been before, and wanted to get out of right now, thank you, and he didn't care if he used to know these people!