Musings of an Ordinary Person in Recovery: My Cats

Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in a never ending Groundhog's Day. Of the writing variety. I write and I feel like it's authentic and fresh and it's my life. My daily life. Every day stuff. Then I go back and reread my words and realize that this is just a repeat of last week's blog.... and the week before, and a few days before that. I write about chickens, and goats, and cats and dogs, and my puppy, and my ducks and my Silkies. I write about bantam chickens and "regular" sized chickens. I write about my hot button issues: the poor, the system that works against the poor, WWJD really and my personal spiritual awakening in regard to the my beliefs and where they fall in the whole left/right political agenda, as well as a few hot button issues in regard to kids, trauma and education. Apparently these issues run in a loop in my mind and get spit out in my blog in various ways over and over again. Hmmmm....

Know what I don't talk about a lot? My cats. Or I don't think I do. Tonight they are surprisingly giving me a break. There is not one cat jockeying for position on my lap at this time. Surprising. Really, they are usually pushing each other off my lap and out of their way. My baby, Eddie (his name is really Ed Sheeran, but I usually call him Eddie or Ed and sometimes Edward), is usually curled up in a ball on my body somewhere. And lately, the elusive Violet, who mostly hides out in my room or upstairs if we have company, has been sitting with me lately also. She usually announces herself as she jumps up onto the chair with a big "Reee-ow." She rolls her r's. I don't know where she learned that, but she does it. She starts out either on the back of the chair, on the head rest, or on the chair arm, and eventually slides over onto my lap or my chest or my neck. Depending on what is still available. But the time Violet is comfy, Domino has probably made his presence known and calls to me.... "Mom, Mommmmm, Mom!" I usually reply, "Dom... " "Dominooooo." "Dom!" Last night I even had a visit from big Pluto. He is technically my daughter's cat. But the thing is, I feed the cats, so aren't they all mine? Seriously. They love the one who feeds them. They trust me. They talk to me. They follow me. But to some extent, both of my Punky's cats are a little bit skittish toward me. But last night, Pluto sat on the back of my head rest on my chair. As I leaned the chair back to recline, we almost went all the way over, because Pluto is a BIG boy. I'm fairly certain he has some Maine Coon in him. Domino, he calls me "Mom!" and Eddie just like to say "Yeah.... " a lot. "Eddie, what you doing?" "yeah..." and Violet has that high pitched, delicate, "Ree-ow". Pluto, the big boy, has a very small, high-pitched cry. Angel's meow is somewhat high pitched too. Angel doesn't talk much. But when she makes herself known to you, you are supposed to love her. And tell her how pretty she is.

I love the cats and even the vying for position and snuggling. As winter has given way to spring and now feeling a bit like summer tonight, I don't know how I will feel about the extra weight and heat on me. But for now, I will just soak it up. I love my cats. And they love me.