In the finest tradition of bloggers worldwide, in the absence of motivation to talk about anything else, I will fall back on babbling about my cats.
They’re pretty sweet — almost as sweet as the guy belonging to that mysterious back-of-the-head image behind them. Valentine (up front) likes to sit behind us atop the couch, whereas Vera is more likely to cuddle next to me in the evenings.
The furry dependents are quite helpful around the house, ensuring that all things are stored neatly in their designated locations. I once opened an upper cabinet so I could unload the dishwasher and put the clean plates away. In the time it took for me to reach into the dishwasher and grab a stack of plates, Miss Vera had tidily stored herself on the waiting shelf. I wonder what would have happened if I had shut the door and gone about the rest of my day.
Of course, sometimes the cats and I have differing opinions as to where certain household items ought to be kept. A couple weeks ago, my cell phone rang (thrilling, I know). When I reached over to grab it from the table next to me, my hand met nothing but smooth glass. I jumped off the couch and began casting about for my wayward phone, getting increasingly flustered all the while — my husband was away on det and I didn’t want to miss him trying to get in touch with me. I knew it was in the room with me because I could hear it as clear as… well, a cell phone ringing in the same room, but I could not see it anywhere. I looked on all surfaces I might have carelessly left my phone, cleared all the picture frames off the entertainment center to see if I had hidden it from myself, and still I saw no sign of the errant device.
The ringing cut off mid-note, and shortly thereafter I heard the jarring beep that told me I had a voicemail. I hate missing calls, but it’s just insult to injury when the phone is right there and I just can’t find it. Grumbling even more now, I continued my search. Having established that the phone was not on any raised surface in the room, I focused my attention a little lower.
Sure enough, there was my phone, wedged all the way under the entertainment center, where kitty paws can reach but human hands cannot. I had to get out the broom to bring it within reach of my grasping fingertips and find out who would now think I was blowing them off. (It was my grandmother, who got a good laugh out of the story of the phone-thievin’ felines when I called her back.)
No matter how aggravating the four-legged members of the family might get from time to time, though, I can always trust them to remind me how to really, truly, one-hundred-percent let everything else in the world go for a few minutes and simply r-e-l-a-x.
After all, if we have a comfy chair and a sunbeam to warm our bellies (which are, naturally, full from assiduous attention to Kitty Breakfast Time and Kitty Dinner Time, the two most important hours of the day), what more do we really need?