I love my cat, I do I do. And sometimes I feel so guilty. I’ll be busy on the computer and she’ll be moving around my piles of paper that inevitably surround it, and she’ll walk in front of me, and so often it just irritates me. And then I realize, all she wants is some attention. I’m at work so much of the time, and then I come home, and I have chores to do and tasks to accomplish, and I’m focused on that. On me.

She’s not neglected. She’s spoiled in many ways. But I don’t always pay enough attention, and she’s just one example of that.

A day or two ago I was rushing around in the morning, as I normally do, going through my routine. I was about to walk out the door when I looked back and I saw Tempest sitting in the middle of the living room, waiting. It is our ritual that I give her three treats, hiding them in various places. I hadn’t given them to her yet and I had almost forgotten.

She’d have survived, it isn’t about that. It is about being so busy, caught up in the routines the clocks the things we have to get done. It hurt me that I hardly noticed her that morning, that I sometimes brush aside her desire for attention in the evenings. I think back at the furry friends I’ve lost in the past, and at how I’d have given anything for just one more day to spend with them. Would still. And here I am wasting the days and mornings I do have with my current love, who is alive and well, and within reach.

It makes no sense, yet it is so typical of our lives. Well, of mine, anyway. I won’t speak for anyone else.


Day 30 of NaBloPoMo. I made it.

Three things for Thursday:

  1. Got pet insurance for the Tempest.
  2. Got plane tickets to FL in Jan! Yippee! Is it Jan yet?
  3. Worked on the resume.