It was Friday morning, time was ticking on. I noticed something unusual about Mum. She was lolling - that’s the best description I can give you – on the sofa, in her nightie and dressing gown, reading a book. This concerned me for several reasons. Unless Mum is ill, in which case, she’d be lying down on the sofa – sometimes with the blue snuggly blanket over her – she rarely sits on the sofa during the day. There have been times when I’ve suggested we hang together and watch a Christmas movie showing now on a channel appropriately named ‘Christmas 24’. She’ll get herself a cappuccino and position herself in the usual corner of the sofa. She’ll smooth my new bed over the far end of the sofa but always invites me to lie next to her. As you know – I have intimacy issues and we have never discussed why I don’t sit on her lap, sucking up to her like Gibbs does every night.
Back to Friday, dressing gowns and book-reading. I couldn’t understand it. Normally, after she’s had her breakfast, she has a routine. She’ll wash the breakfast dishes, then go into our bathroom and, while I’m on duty outside watching for Zombies or intruders, she’ll take a shower. Then she goes upstairs to get dressed. Then her day begins. A quick nip into the office to check emails, Facebook, Twitter before getting on with her writing projects till lunch time.
I decided to check her vitals. I couldn’t see her eyes as they were semi-closed while she read. I stood on her lap, my face peering over her book. I looked for signs for illness; a fever, red spots on her cheeks, a sweatiness about her forehead but there was nothing, people, absolutely nothing. She noticed me and smiled, leaning towards me. Perfect, I thought, I can check her temperature and I leaned in to her, touching her nose. NO, NO, NO!!! It was NOT a kiss – can we please erase that misconception right here right now. Jeez, kiss a person once and any contact is heralded as being an ‘item’. We are not an item. I am a cat; she is my human mum and I leaned in to check her nose. If it was cold, then I was happy. I wasn’t sure it was cold, to be honest with you so I checked it again.
Satisfied that she wasn’t ill, I settled down next to her, giving myself a thorough wash of all the right places before giving up to my zzzzzzs. I could hear the pages turn intermittently and then a sort of thwack thud noise as she closed the book, her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
‘Casey, that was the best book Mum’s read in ages.’
Snore.
‘Oh, Casey, if only I could write as captivatingly as this author has, I’d be in my element.’
Not knowing about captivating writing or elements, I continued with what I knew best.
Snore.
What was nice about Mum reading on a Friday morning, and relaxing – something she doesn’t do very often – was that she was in the moment. It’s something we cats do all the time – we live in the moment, and people, I can’t tell you what a huge joy it was to have my own personal human Mum, for just a few brief hours, live in the moment with me alongside her. Magic, pure magic.
Till the next time,
Casey
The Very Best Toy for Cats
"Of all the [cat] toys available, none is better designed than the owner himself. A large multipurpose plaything, its parts can be made to move in almost any direction. It comes completely assembled, and it makes a noise when you jump on it."
Stephen Baker