Wednesday, August 29, 2007

HELD HOSTAGE BY THE CATS

It’s a peaceful morning. The sun is shining on each drop of water that comes from the sprinkler. The house is cool; the fan in the kitchen circulates the morning air. We are contemplating breakfast, I vote for peaches given to us by our neighbor Cindy. Phil is holding out for eggs and sausage. He’ll eat peaches, I know him well.

All of a sudden we hear the unmistakable sound of Minkey, our Burmese cat. Most cats have a normal “meow.” Pika—our white Persian—has a meow like sweet honey. Minkey’s voice sounds like a chain saw, cutting through garbage cans. Every thought that comes into his little cat brain is expressed. All day long he expresses. If he hasn’t had enough “sitting-on-my-lap” time or enough “scratch-under-my-chin-and-under-my-ears-and-pet-me-a-whole-long-time” time he complains. Non-stop.

So, Minkey made his first comment of the day and Phil said, “Oh no! Minkey’s up.”

And indeed he was. Our day has begun and will end with Minkey, complaining in the hall, outside the bedroom door at 2:00 am or perhaps 3:00. Occasionally I stumble out of bed, open the door a crack and squirt water, randomly into the hall in the direction of the yowl. This gives him an opportunity to run down the steps and yowl from the living room, where he knows I won’t bother to venture.

“We have absolutely no leadership ability. We can’t even control our cats,” Phil said. “Minkey, PLEASE be quiet.”

Minkey answered.

“See! No leadership whatsoever.”

And so we start our day, floundering with our insecurities and wondering if peaches will be soothing or if it will take eggs and sausage to restore the peace and happiness of ten minutes ago—before Minkey got up.



1 comment:

Ekim said...

You are a precious new friend. You brighten my day.