Friends, it has been over a month since I posted here. Usually, my absence from the blog means that I am sad or ruminating or preoccupied with mental health challenges. Not this time. This time it has been because I have been giddily happy—surprised, amazed, and tearfully grateful for what the Universe has recently brought into my life—all of which will, eventually, be expressed in words in this space (if I can find sufficient words to capture those feelings).
In the meantime, we interrupt these (mostly) serious posts regarding social justice, women’s rights, suicide prevention, and nature walks to bring you:
Conversations
with My Cat
I
have recently been told that Jenny the Cat is “squishy cute.” I cannot
disagree. It has also been suggested (though not by the same person) that, no,
not everyone has conversations with their pets the way I do. How can this be?
If your cat speaks to you, do you not answer in kind? If your dog questions
your punctuality in doling out dinner or treats, do you not offer some lame
excuse regarding “the next commercial” or “Hang on! I’m not ready to get up out
of this chair yet”? Indeed you do. I do concede, your conversations may not be
as in depth as mine…. But see for yourself. Below is a composite of a
typical day in conversation with Jenny.
4:30a.m.
Jenny: Mom! Mom! Wake up time? Wake up time?
Me:
Jen, come here. Get on the bed. Let’s cuddle. Your boy is still sleeping.
[Most nights, Jenny prefers to sleep in the guest room, not on the bed with me. Don’t ask me why (and don’t suggest that I snore). She also mirrors the movements of Thomas. If he gets up, she does. If he sleeps longer, she will wait on my bed until he gets up before venturing out to the kitchen. Silly girl.]
Jenny: RRRrrrRRRrrrRRRrrrRRRrrr
[In contrast to Purrl, who would purr if I so much as said her name, Jenny is not as demonstrative—except in the morning when we cuddle, and at night when it’s time for bed.]
5:00a.m.
Jenny: Mom! Mom! Outside? Outside!
[And so the demands begin… and will continue until the dogs are fed and walked and the sun has risen sufficiently to allow her out to the back yard. In the meantime….]
6:00a.m.
Jenny: Mom! Mom! Treats? Treats?!?
Me:
Yes, Jen, hang on. Thomas gets his treats first because he went walking. And
what did you do? Tell me again why you get treats, dearest? For watching out
the window while we walked? For meeting us at the door? I’m not sure what this
reward is for, but here you go, little girl.
6:05a.m.
Jenny: Mom! Mom! Outside!
Me:
Ok, Ok, good grief. Go on out there. Do not bring a mouse back with you.
6:30a.m.
Jenny: [Running to the living room and opening her jaws to deposit a live mouse on the floor, which promptly skitters under my writing desk] Mom! Mom! Baby!
Me:
Jen! Good grief! You didn’t hurt him, did you?
[She never does. She brings them in and chases them around until they’re exhausted enough for me to scoop into an empty oatmeal can. The last mouse she brought in was more afraid of me than it was her, and when I tried to get it, the poor thing ran to where Jenny lay on the floor like a sphinx, and it cowered against her chest. Her response? She just sat there, harboring the fugitive with a smug grin on her face. Cats. Sheesh.]
9:00a.m.
Naptime begins… and goes on and on throughout the day, with occasional interludes for cat treats (if the dogs get one) and exchanges such as these:
1:00p.m.
Jenny: Mom. [Waking me from a nap]
Me: [Whispering, so as not to wake Thomas] Up here, baby. Jump up on the bed.
Jenny: Mom. Sleepy. [Flopping over next to my side and going back to sleep]
5:00p.m.
Me: Jen! You’re up! Hi, baby. Wanna cuddle with Mom? Wanna eat your dinner?
Jenny: [Silence, as she strolls haughtily past me and through the open door to the back yard]
[I can’t blame her. I don’t like to chat when I wake from my nap, either.]
6:00p.m.
[As Jenny jumps onto the kitchen table, flopping over next to where I am
sitting, trying to have a phone conversation with The Very Special Man in My Life]
Jenny:
Mom. Talking?
Me:
Yes, honey. Shhhh….
Jenny:
Mom. Pet Jenny.
Me:
Of course. Shhhh….
Jenny:
Mom! Mom! Look!
Me:
Good grief. What?
Jenny:
[Looking out the window] Bird!
Me:
I see it.
Very
Special Man: Is that Jenny? What’s she saying?
[Note:
This is how you know a man is very special, when he understands that if the cat
is talking, she must be saying something of import.]
6:30p.m. [As I attempt to resume my conversation with the human]
Jenny:
[Puffing up to twice her size] Mom! Mom! Look!
Me:
What, Jen?
Jenny:
DOG! [Her eyes track Ace, the large collie who lives down the street and
passes our house every single day at this time on his way to the dog park with one
of his humans.]
Me:
Yes, Jen. It’s Ace. Again. You’re safe, baby. Might be a good idea to stay in
now—
Jenny:
[Jumping down from the table] Outside!
7:00p.m.
Me:
[Calling into the back yard] Jen! Time to come in now!
Jenny:
[Grumbling as she trots back along the walkway toward the door] Why? Why? Why
come in? Now? Right now? Why?
Me:
[Shaking the can with cat treats] Come on, stop complaining. I’ll give you a
treat for coming in.
Jenny:
Treat?!?
8:00p.m.
Jenny: Mom! Mom! Bedtime!
Me:
I know, dearest. Let me finish this—
Jenny:
Mom! Treat time! Bedtime!
Me:
OK! OK!
8:30p.m.
Jenny: RRRrrrRRRrrrRRRrrr
