One of Those Days

Do you every have one of those days when everything goes wrong? You get out of the wrong side of the bed in the middle of the night and step on to something wet and cold. Perhaps it’s a wet facecloth that escaped from the bathroom in a bid for freedom. It could happen. Couldn’t it? As you stand there trying desperately to ignore your expanding bladder you distinctly remember the retching noises your cat made that you chose to ignore as you were getting into bed. The midnight fairies won’t clean THAT up!

So you hobble into the bathroom trying desperately not to touch the floor, that beautiful hardwood that you spent thousands installing. (You see a hardwood refinisher in your future.) But you make it, curse Mother Nature for fitting your body with a function that no one wants to talk about in polite company. Noxious liquids dealt with, you envision a quick jaunt back to your oh, so comfortable bed. Unless . . . you have pets.

“Free to a good home!” “Unconditional love!” “The best companion anyone could ever want!” “Never be alone again!” Truth in advertising? Absolutely. But I’ll bet you never read the fine print. That’s a whole different truth.

When you have a small child (of the human variety) you expect to get little sleep. It can take months, even years for them to reach a point where they sleep through the night to allow you to sleep through yours. A few years of midnight bliss and then they’re teenagers and it starts all over again.

 

So instead of a human child you decide to get one of a feline or canine variety. Did you not read the fine print? When they are very young they often have trouble sleeping alone. Curled up in your armpit, hair or chest is often preferable. Which means you don’t sleep terribly well either. You’re midnight forays will now provide you with a traveling companion. You will never be alone again. Oh and that afternoon nap you love to take. They don’t. You are fair game. Fine print!

So finally you rethink this companion thing. You’re young, strong, intelligent. You don’t need to be cuddled by a non-sentient fleabag. You want to eat when you want to eat! You want to stay out as long as you want! You don’t need to be needed! And then it happens.

You come home from a rough day. You’re sad and you don’t know why. You sit down on the couch wondering why you ever took this job and your cat jumps onto your lap. You look down at this intrusion and a stray paw taps your hand, big brown eyes turn to look into yours with such . . .

And there my friend is why you will move mountains to accommodate your animal companion. They are gentle souls who need you. I think.

For a friend!

One of the most wonderful things about blogging is the interaction with people from around the world.  I just read a post by a fellow blogger who never gets to see snow.  So I thought I would send her a little taste of winter in Canada.  You should check out:                                 . madcapdog.wordpress.com

 Sorry, couldn’t resist!  I’m such a ham!

It’s 4:00 in the morning!

4 AM. The clock ticks inexorably towards 5 o’clock but it’s still a long way away. It is dark. It is quiet. But it is not silent. I can hear a clock ticking in the other room . . . tick tick tick. A relentless metronome. Tick tick tick. Isn’t there supposed to be a tock in there somewhere? It’s funny how we interpret what we hear.

I just heard a car, I think, it was a quiet, dull roar. Fortunately no car alarms! I can hear my refrigerator faintly humming. Not a tune I know. Silly me. I get a little punchy in the wee, wee hours of the day. Or is it still night? Technically it’s the morning but that doesn’t seem right until after dawn. But it is a quiet time.

I can hear my heart beating. Odd. It is something that has been doing the same job for more than 59 years and yet it is alien to me. My liver, my spleen. These are all important aspects of what make me but I have no relationship with them. They are the mechanics within the shell of my body. And I am no mechanic!

I am tired. But I am not sleepy. My body wants to rest but my mind insists it has something important to say. I wonder what that is. I wonder what is the meaning of life. Meaning. Mean. Such different meanings. Can you be mean to your meanings? How do we understand? Why do we not understand? We are not so different from each other and yet we insist that we are. Why? Why do we hate what we do not understand? When? When did we come to believe that it was okay to hate? Is that the meaning of life?

Understanding. Perhaps when we understand each other we will realize that only when we are acting as one can we become one. One species, one race, one people. Too few people have tried. We are raised to be individuals and we cannot comprehend how we can be a part of something bigger when we come together as a whole. We do not give up our individuality by joining a group we simply enhance the group.

I feel I’m in ranting but I also feel that it is important. I am important. You are important. But even better than all of that: WE ARE IMPORTANT!