Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Don't get me wrong. If you are a cat-lover, we can all still be friends. I have no problem with others' pet preferences, but to me cats seem to have an air of arrogance that I just cannot tolerate. They laze about doing what they want, when they want and seem to enjoy napping more than anything.
Today I was surrounded by chaos. I was ready to pull my hair out. My second batch of dough for holiday cookies was mixing, my clothes dryer had broken and my kids were into everything imaginable. I put the dough into the refrigerator, draped sheets and blankets over doors to finish drying and got down on the floor to pick up the Legos that were strewn from here to infinity.
As I sat there on the floor, my foot became warm. I looked and realized that it was caught in a sunny patch of carpet and I moved my entire self into the sun's pathway, allowing it to warm my legs, my arms, my face. Oh, heaven, did it feel wonderful.
I woke up awhile later to the sound of my telephone. I had fallen asleep? In the middle of the floor? I had let the sun overtake me and dozed as it warmed and energized me. That was when it hit me... how much like a cat I was just then, lazing about in the sun's rays right in the middle of a mess of Legos and the incessant chatter of toddlers vying for a turn on the computer.
Right then, it was like nothing else was important. That little siesta was all about me. I felt a bit... what's the word? Arrogant? And I liked it.
I suppose it just goes to show you that even with our differences we can learn to appreciate the things we share in common with those we don't like much.
As much as I hate to admit it, I loved my afternoon catnap, basking in that little spot of sunshine as the chaos continued all around me.
But I'll still never own a cat.