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| Willoughby the Cat |
It occurs to me that I often wax rather poetic.
I am sitting in the sunroom with tea, utterly contented, when Willoughby the cat gives me a little "Meert?" of a greeting and climbs onto the cushy top of my chair above my head. She settles in and I feel a rush of love for this hairy little black creature.
“Oh…” I coo. “You just want to be with Mommy, huh?”
I turn my head into her, marveling at how life is beautiful, and what makes it so beautiful are the simple things. Like sitting here, writing, and her black fur, that almost seems to shine with little rainbows of light in the bright morning sun. I close my eyes and nuzzle her soft fur with my face.
And then she turns her rear end, so that her (uh, for lack of a classier term) anus is resting uncomfortably close to my cheek.
And begins flicking me in the face with her tail.
You cannot convince me she doesn’t know how annoying that is.
Or how disgusting it is to be so close to her stinky bum hole.
My nose wrinkles in revolt, but I can't help but chuckle. Mission accomplished, cat.
We humans tend to take ourselves so seriously. Even when we're trying to expand, and grow and get better at loving who and where we are, we're so damn serious about it all the time.
Her tail flick? A reality check.
Her stinky bum? Comedic relief.
I'm constantly struck by how many of my readers tend to be animal lovers - cats and dogs both, but interestingly, many of you are cat people. Regardless of species, I never cease to be amazed how much guidance animals give us, how incredibly grounding their presence can be in our daily lives.
If we only pay attention.
So this message comes from Willoughby, I suppose.
It's good to be earnest.
But it's good to laugh, too.
Might seem like a small thing. But I think we can all recognize there will be days when such teachings will really come in handy.
Hello Signe,
ReplyDeleteI was just thinking about you the other day because I read The Wine of Angels, first in a series by Phil Rickman about a female priest in the Church of England named Merrily Watson. In each book she has encounters with some kind of ancient characters, such as faeries. Another book in the series, called Chalice, takes place in Glastonbury. As I finished The Wine of Angels, I thought of you and Faery Tale.
And yes, I am a cat person. My current cat is named Caramello. She chases coyotes out of our yard! Scary, I know, and who knows how long she will prevail. We put her inside her own little house at night, for safety, but she is definitely an outdoor cat, a huntress and a fierce protector of her/our property.