Help from a friend

After writing my last post, I decided that it was not right to avoid parts of my house. If I start making little accommodations for fear, it grows and acts like it owns the place. So, I started working up my nerve to go down and clean the basement litterbox when my eyes fell on my most cuddly cat, curled up on a quilt. I picked her up, and the fur on her right side was especially warm because she'd been lying on it for a long time. I carried her down stairs on my shoulder, rubbing my cheek against that warm fur, and I noticed that my little companion was not at all upset by the landing that I disliked so much. When I set her down on the cold basement floor and started to clean the litter box, she stalked away with a sense of indignation. Testily, I reminded her that if it were not for her and her comrades, I would not be visiting the basement at all that night. I cleaned the litter box quickly while my cat made her slow, dignified way through the basement and towards the stairs. As soon as I was done, I raced through the basement to catch up with her, and we ran up the stairs together.