Pax Felis
I finally got something approximating a good night’s sleep last night. Granted, that means that I got six hours rather than three or four, but it is an improvement! I’m just doing a countdown to the weekend now, when I can stay in bed and doze until I’m sated.
Kitten was in a strange mind-set last night. She usually wants to play the moment I sit down in the living room, which she signals by dropping a fuzzy mouse toy into my lap or down my back. That’s her cue that she wants to play fetch, a game that can keep her attention for hours. Yesterday evening however she brought her fuzzy mouse over, dropped it in my lap, and then curled up around it. She then proceeded to drop off to sleep for the next hour. I was all tucked in under a quilt on the sofa, and pulled a corner of the quilt over her. She never even noticed. We stayed that way all through “Leave it to Beaver” and “The Andy Griffith Show”. No comments from the Peanut Gallery about my taste in television; at least it wasn’t more war news.
Now, it would be an absolute mistake to think I have an atom of maternal instinct in me. I never wanted to have children and I do poorly in one-on-one exchanges involving most humanoids under the age of fifteen or so. The Kitten definitely has many of the lesser-desired qualities of childhood in its repertoire. Considering my history, I should be considering Fricassee de Petit Chat most evenings for dinner. But holding that sleeping kitten last night was perhaps one of the most peaceful feelings I’ve ever known. Finding all the good scritch spots – under the chin, behind the ears, over the shoulder blades, where the backbone meets the tail – and feeling her lean into my attentions without really waking up was a like balm on my psyche. For an hour, nothing existed except the kitten and me, and life had no problems.
Maybe life really doesn’t have any problems that can’t be fixed by the love of a good Kitten.
She is a cat-goddess, that one!
I’m playing catch up today.
I am afraid to think of how you have to get sicker to get that liver… 🙁
My, what a felicitious felix. 🙂
LOL ~ Cute kitty. It makes me want to sleep along with Kitty. =^..^=
Take Care
AO
you know what, palimpsest?
your kitten philosophy is probably the best advice i’ve heard in a good while
i couldn’t agree more
sez
Sometimes I miss Dasher. The dog is a little too heavy for lap-sitting.
That picture of Kitten and the last line in today’s entry would be a great poster! Your Kitten reminds me so much of my Kitten, who is also smoky gray. My Kitten has white mittens not quite up to her ankles, white "knee boots", and a half a white moustache on her right side. She is nearly four years old, but still has quite a bit of kitten in her. She still sucks her tail, too. It is only occasional now, but used to be a constant activity. Is it true that cats that exhibit sucking behaviors like this were forced to wean too early? Whether it is, or not isn’t really important, I suppose. I find it endearing.
Thank you for your kind comments to my latest entry. I will not beat myself up for not writing at the same time every day. BTW, considering your health and time constraints you do a darned good job of keeping your entries up. Much better than I would do under the same circumstances, I am certain. I have to admit that I do worry (maybe hope is a better word, as I am hoping you are getting your liver) a little when you don’t update for a couple of days.
This should have been said an entry or two ago, but you will definitely never be forgotten. I no longer think about veterinary medicine without a thought of you cropping up somewhere. Especially when one of my mother’s mares has a foal, as I know you would enjoy being there. Nothing is more wonderous than being present at a birth and it matters not if it is a new person, litter of puppies or kittens, or a foal. The miracle of life never gets old.