Friday, November 11, 2016

Of Cats and Women

Of Mice and Men sounds better but John Steinbeck already stole that title.  Anyway, here at my house it's just one cat and one woman, and this morning it was pretty obvious who was ruling the roost.....wait, that's a mixed metaphor.....never mind.

When I opened the blinds this chilly morning, I thought about how pretty the orange azaleas were.  Yes, it is a spring flower but the bush outside my window has the odd habit of blooming out of season, and I enjoy that.  So I thought that perhaps I might get my wonky camera to cooperate sufficiently to take a nice picture to share.  By the time I returned with the camera (mere seconds!), there was Daisy on the bed and in my way.  Worse, she let me know she was cold and that the towel she likes to sleep on was insufficient for proper feline comfort.

I remembered storing Daisy's favorite "binky" (a hand-crocheted afghan that I bought at a yard sale for $2 and, yes, I did buy it purposely for the cat; it has flowers on it and, well, yeah, she's a Daisy--how embarrassing) on the top shelf in the closet.  What I failed to recall is that I had stored stuff on top of the blanket container and that all dropped on my head when I reached up to get it down so now there's a nice little mess to clear up in the closet. 

But I figured that the mess could wait until I got finished at my dressing table--doing make-up, getting my hair dry.....wait, no, I couldn't use the hair dryer because Daisy was on the bed and she is terrified of the hair dryer.  I very quietly removed the hair dryer from the hook under the table and sneaked out of the room with it.  Would be a shame to upset the kitty, right?  That's what I was thinking as I sat at my worktable drying my hair--that it wasn't really all that inconvenient.

After I put the dryer away and finished everything else, I congratulated myself that Daisy was happy and warm and that she would be fine for awhile.  Then I was off to the kitchen for a mug of tea and some toast.....and who was right behind me begging to be let out onto the screen porch where it's 15 degrees colder than it is in our chilly house?  Daisy.

No doubt, in a minute or two, she will be howling her head off to be let back in.  Sorry, Cat, I'm drinking my tea while it's hot, and I decline to feel guilty about that.  Your comfy blanket is waiting on the bed. 

Life is good.
And it's nicer where it's warm.


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