Friday, June 2, 2017
Daisy at the Door
My elderly cat Daisy is still living on the back porch. Although it has only been since Easter (about six weeks ago), it seems like years have passed since she abandoned the house. Daisy doesn't seem to recognize me anymore, and she has become frail. Honestly, there have been several days I thought I'd wake up cat-less but Daisy (as she always has) surprised me at every turn. I've been giving her plenty of attention and taking good care of her but I still miss her; the house seems empty.
Yesterday, I was sitting at the dining room table having a mug of tea and a piece of barm brack (for those of you who haven't read previous posts, that's fruit cake), I became aware that Daisy was staring at me intently through the glass of the porch door. Oh, she was still on the table that has now become her home but she was poised on the edge of it. I figured she was about to go visit the litter box and ignored her.
The staring went on and on until it became uncomfortable but that's just Daisy, She has always been incredibly focused when she's fixated on something and often that something has been me (like this post: Feline Dream Control). Daisy is not an "easy" cat and never has been; that's one of the reasons I chose her. Maybe she knows I can take it (most of the time) so that's why she chose me.
And, as I sat there, I realized that she had been doing the staring routine every time I sat at the dining room table yesterday. What was she doing? I determined not to let her get to me.....and then she did something that knocked me off my feet.
Daisy leapt off the table, dashed across the porch, thumped her paws against the glass, and stood on her hind legs waiting for me to open the door.....just like she used to do as a younger kitty when she always looked so busy and happy.
This is my favorite picture of Daisy from years ago--yes, she's jumping at the door. And it's something similar to how excited she looked yesterday.
I opened the door, scooped Daisy up, and went to sit with her on my lap on the comfy chair in the corner of the dining room. Daisy isn't a lap cat or a cuddler but that's what she wanted. And, for the first time in weeks, she seemed to know who I was. She drooled all over me the way she's always done, and she tried to bite the thick of my thumb, just as unsuccessfully as always.
We sat there together for half an hour until she decided it was time to return to the porch. It was nice to have my old cat back again for a little while, although maybe a little heartbreaking, too. And it was lovely to remember those times when she jumped up at the door.
Life is good.