She will be standing in a room, watching me get dressed or brush my teeth, and she will inexplicably run at top speed down the hallway and all throughout the house; she climbs the curtains and puts little claw holes in them so it looks like stars in the daytime; she ascends the screens and perches on top of the open doors; she walks along my headboard and jumps (unprovoked) on my face while I'm reading; she nurses on a soft blanket I have on the couch and purrs so loud she sounds like an engine (She's doing it right now, in fact.).
She looks like a gray tiger, with black stripes all down her body and on her belly and on her legs. She has what looks like an "M" on her forehead, and little white patches next to her eyes surrounded in black so it looks like she's wearing a superhero mask. Her paws are white like she's wearing little white shoes.
Sometimes I get so frustrated with her antics that I yell at the top of my lungs. But she just stares at me, looking bored, as if to say, "Really? Is that all you got?"
She's insane: no doubt about it.
But I love her.
I envy her energy. There are many times in my life when I wish that I could have the courage to run top speed, climb curtains, perch on doors, and display a general disdain for others' disapproval. She gives life her all, and then she sleeps so deeply. I envy that too. I'd be willing to wager that only humans suffer from insomnia.
When all the women leave me, she will be here.
That's not so bad, is it?
Your cat sounds beautiful.
ReplyDeleteIn more ways than one. :)