I’m sure you’ve guessed by now that I’m just really enjoying the simple ways in which I pass my time these days. For the most part, there are no complications from external sources. No strange undercurrents. Just the general concern of the timing of when I’ll land my next job, but I know that I will eventually. When the time is right.
While I love where I am right now, I also know that life has a way of changing rapidly when you least expect it. So if I’m in the midst of calm, then I should hold onto the experience as hard as I can and savor each moment, because experience has taught me that calm precedes chaos.
That being said, here’s a sample of a simple amusement in which I take joy.
My phantom cat, Snug, has always known that he is Tug’s cat. Never mine. I got him to entertain and amuse Tug, who as a kitten, was single-pawedly, destroying my house and rearranging my silverware. Snug is neurotic and intelligent, beyond the normal feline intelligence. He “tattles” on the other cats if there’s something amiss (when Tug escaped, for example), he figures out how to disassemble things (like pulling Christmas lights out with his teeth), and he can calculate precisely when the automatic scent dispenser will activate so that he isn’t sprayed (we use that to keep the cats off the kitchen table and from under the Christmas tree), among other things. When he looks at me, I feel as if I’m being mind-read by a cat. It’s disconcerting to say the least.
Anyway, lately he’s established a way to let me know that he wants to be loved on and held. It’s a course in feline to human communication via body language. This is how it goes.
First, he kneads his cat bed for awhile.
Then rubs the side of his face on my files…
…and wanders innocently over to rub his face on the side of my desk.
Checks to see if I’ve noticed.
Then he goes over and shoves his face into Tug’s face, to demonstrate that he wants love. He either gets swatted or loved by Tug, it’s a 50/50 risk/opportunity.
Then he rubs against the table leg.
Then over to the other table leg.
Back to the first table leg.
Then crosses under my chair and heads over to the cat bed area, always making sure that he’s *just* out of reach. If I reach for him and he’s not ready to be picked up, he runs away. But look at that body language, that is one cat who wants to be loved on.
If he arches his back, that’s my cue to grab his tail and slide him over.
When I get him near enough, I put my hand on his back and he goes limp…
… and that’s my cue to reach under him and lift him up.
So he can snuggle and drool. Yes, he drools.
It’s more than a little ridiculous, but totally worth it.