I have three cats. Two of them aren’t mine, really, but don’t tell them that. Or me for that matter. They’re all my babies.
Every morning, they wait patiently for me to get up. As I throw off the covers, they jump up and make a beeline for the kitchen. I feed them first so I won’t trip over them as they swirl around my legs, then I make a pot of tea, feed the birds, and then climb back into bed to do my daily journaling. After they’ve finished their morning routines, they all join me, settling into their respective places on my bed. Kitty lays down by my feet. Tyger Lily (I call her Lillian) and Zeus fight over the spot next to me. Whoever loses has to pick a spot in between, but they all seem pretty content after the fur settles.
One of the best things we can do in life is appreciate what we have and as I gaze out the window at the birds fussing over the bird seed, listen to the quiet of my neighborhood, and watch the cats start to relax and doze, I can’t help but feel all kinds of love and appreciation for the life I have. Even though it’s a little out of whack right now, that feeling I get every morning lets me know that life is good and all is well.
The cats have taught me some good life lessons. For instance, when they need attention, they ask for it. They rub on my legs. They meow at me and look at me with those big, beautiful eyes. They sit on my keyboard. And they don’t even feel bad about it. Cats feel no guilt. Imagine that!
They ask each other for what they need, too. Zeus will go up and lay right next to Kitty and shove his head under his chin, so that Kitty will groom his head. Or he’ll go up to Lillian and start grooming her and she lets him. Or they’ll just cuddle up next to each other for a nice nap.
Unlike a cat, if I need something, I’ll suffer in silence rather than ask for it. The only time I ask for anything is when I can give something in return, usually money. I feel okay talking about my feelings with my therapist because I pay her to listen to me, but I would never ask someone to listen to me for nothing. I do, however, have a select few people that will hug me. For free! I appreciate them more than they know.
They’re also teaching me how to simply be. They don’t worry about whether they’re going to get fed. They don’t overanalyze why the other cats are getting more attention or why one of them always gets the best spot on the bed. They’ll run around the house like maniacs, knocking over plants and skidding into walls and they don’t care how silly they look or that I’m laughing at them. They do what they want, when they want. Life doesn’t get any better than that. I could stand to be more like a cat.