Rascally Cat
Every time I get up from my laptop, my cat, Wolfie, walks across the keyboard. He presses delete. He launches applications and then enters incorrect passwords. He sets that hateful rainbow colored wheel in motion – the one that shouts: Alert! Alert! Now entering overwhelm mode. Welcome to your next life lesson in stationary spinning.
Cats are like life: forever messing with our best-laid plans. Perhaps everyone should keep a cat just to serve as their daily reminder that life is not and cannot be controlled. That the only constancy in our lives is the change we experience on a daily basis. If I can be at peace with a rascally cat, perhaps I can also be at peace with the indisputable fact that life is going to run a lot of interference, no matter how many barriers and speed bumps I place in its path.
It seems that the lesson to learn from my rascally cat is to love him anyway. To scratch that tender spot beneath his chin even when he scatters all my papers. To lovingly rub behind his ears despite the fact that he just clawed my sofa to shreds and dug up all my potted plants so that he could use them as his litter.
Like life itself, Wolfie is a beautifully invasive creature: willful, stubborn, wily and full of stealth. Oh, how he tries my patience! Oh, how many times have I wanted to kick him to the curb! But in the quiet moments when I am curled up on my couch reading a book, or sitting silently at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, he comes softly creeping to nudge at my ankles, to purr in my ear, to settle in my lap. He cozies down into our companionship like he’s slipping into a warm bath - like the dreaded fox from children’s books, returned to his den at last after a long day’s mischief-making only to wind himself up in a ball, his pointy little nose wrapped protectively in his abundant tail. That’s when I perceive that the egg-thieving fox is not, in fact, my enemy; he is, at day’s end, my devoted friend.
As Wolfie lays there dozing, as he lists in half-sleep like a little sail boat rocking softly in the waves, I remember that I actually love him and love him quite dearly. So in those moments when life leaves me thwarted and road-blocked, bottle-necked and frenzied, perhaps I can make a better choice and recall this tender moment instead. Rather than resisting everything that’s coming at me only to spin myself into a raging ball of fury, I’ll simply drop myself right here.
Right here where I understand that best laid plans gone haywire is no more fearsome than an egg-thieving fox and no more irksome than a rascally cat. When I find that moment to catch my breath, to simply breath, life will come quietly to rest in my lap as my friend once more – whiskered, fuzzy-tailed, soft-pawed, purring.