Father has been ill with a virus – not the one that’s been grabbing international headlines and causing worry. No, my extra-special human contracted a boring old strep throat virus. Sadly for me, he bounced back quickly. I don’t wish illness on him but the math is simple: Ailing Father + rest time = more opportunities to pet me. I really don’t see where the problem is.
You’ve probably heard that old saying, “curiosity killed the cat”? That’s hogwash, poppycock, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. Curiosity, my dear mousers, makes a cat’s life grand!
There is only one place I’m not allowed to explore: the mudroom. It’s off the kitchen. It’s cold and a direct portal to the out of doors and the basement. Who wants to get cold and maybe end up outside, or worse, in the dark cellar of a 150-year-old house?? Not me! Everywhere else, though, is fair game.
Sometimes, there are things out of place in my nap room, aka the bedroom. For example, Father recently pulled in a bunch of colourful cables, a television and some flat, black boxes. After he fussed for a while – and I must tell you candidly that he spoke some disrespectful words at that collection of boxes – Mother and I watched Netflix together. It was just silly. Someone named ScarJo was yelling and Adam Driver was yelling and then Laura Dern started yelling! I believe it was called Old Yeller, but I might be mistaken.
Sometimes, I take a nonchalant stroll to my toys and hang around there for a while, rubbing my chin on the basket. When I can’t tell whether anyone has taken my hint, curiosity wins and I must look back to see if I’ve been noticed. I will them to take out the crinkly shark! Brush me! Wind up the little, grey mouse and let it rip! If only Rosetta Stone had a course in English for cats.
So, as I believe I’ve demonstrated beyond doubt, curiosity is indeed beneficial to the cat. It’s stupidity that kills him.
Now, my adoring carpet scooters, I will leave you with a word, or several, about one of my favourite human beans. Erin Davis has always been respectful and gentle with me. And she labours on the side of kindness and goodness to all creatures.
Her best-selling book, Mourning Has Broken, comes out in paperback today. Although I’m treated like a superstar, I’m paid like an intern, so I understand that not everyone wishes to purchase a book in hardcover. Today is your day! The softcover version offers significant savings with the same wise, personal and encouraging words within. This book is a wonderful gift for those experiencing loss and as Erin so rightly points out, loss comes in many forms. We need to talk about it and help each other through it.
My own personal loss was my pal Spicey. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but we shared a special type of love. He was a heavy-handed alpha cat at times but he could also be loving and sweet. Ultimately, he was family. And I miss him.
So, whether you’re feeling a sense of loss of your own, or want to help someone you love through theirs, giving the gift of Erin’s book is a wonderful way to show you care.
That’s all for this week my little whisker twitchers! I love you more than chewy tuna treats!