On Being a Pet Parent

At this stage in my life I do not have children or grandchildren to take care of, which I do regret.  But I am a pet parent.  And those of you with human children or even pet children probably understand how hard it can be to get anything done.

As I write this Miss Maggie, one of my feline children (aged about 7), is doing her level best to show me just how neglected she is.  I often write sitting on my sofa with the laptop on a TV table, and this gives Maggie ample room to roam about, walk across my lap, attempt to jump on the keyboard, perch on the armrest and nip at my elbow, and head butt my right arm so that my hand moves and types gibberish like this: hjard piuj free.  Perhaps this is her native language, and she's speaking her mind.  I have no clue.

When she realizes that her antics are not going to keep me from working, she gives up and lies down next to me.

 

Junior, my older cat (12 years old) whom I rescued from the streets of Pawtucket 6 years ago, has his own little ways of letting me know he's feeling upset.  He will jump onto the coffee table and sit there and stare.  Just stare long and hard in the belief that if he stares long enough I will stop typing and attend to him. 

 He's right, of course.  Hard to ignore a cat's stare.

He's an excellent assistant when I'm trying to work, especially if I'm at the kitchen table.  

 Junior is a cat of few meows, while Maggie cries at the drop of a piece of dry food.  She is always talking and I have no idea what she is talking about, but I talk back to her as best I can and hope she understands me. 

 Because the apartment is essentially theirs (I am just a guest), they have no issues about moving from the window sill to my collage table to inspect what I'm doing.  And there are times when my new painting table becomes their personal playground.  I cannot leave things out to dry flat on the painting table (which I had hoped to do - foolishly, I know), otherwise one or the other will leave painty paws all over the house.

They like it best when I am trying to straighten things out.  Junior will sit and offer advice until he gets bored with my confused efforts and goes on my bed to nap.  Maggie will hang around, then leave, then come back to find out if I'm finished, then leave if I'm not.  If I'm still working when she returns again, then she will start the head butting and elbow nipping routine if she's close enough.

 As much as it can be frustrating when the work is interrupted, these funky felines keep me going.  They force me to get up in the morning when I'm feeling emotionally fragile and want to just stay in bed.  Having to make sure they're fed and the litter boxes are clean is good practice in dealing with things that matter.  And though Maggie's head butts and Junior's stares can be annoying as hell, they remind me that there's more to life than work.

Quite honestly, I might not have much human companionship, but I am blessed to have these two creatures in my life, and I dread the day when they will leave me.  And yes, I will continue to tolerate the interruptions, the stares, the nips, and the head butts.  I don't want to imagine life without them.

later,
lin