… and maybe he meant well. My cat, Reynaldo, that is.
I took a nap yesterday afternoon and this offended him. He seemed to believe that if I had taken a day off, I should spend it lavishing my undivided attention on him. He expressed his frustration by knocking over and scattering the magazines I had stacked carefully beside my coffee table.
He still had some frustration left in that skinny beige body, so he took off on my unanswered mail, bills, medical and charitable receipts -- knocking over all the folders and burrowing about, leaving no sense of order.
He announced his actions with noisy howls, but I unwisely tried to ignore him. I didn't realize how active he had been, and I'm overwhelmed by how much he "accomplished" in such a short period of time.
Oh well. What can I do but look at the bright side? I'm never going to reread that US magazine article about how that bitch Angelina stood p0or Jen up at a pre-Oscar bash. And I DO need to return these book club response forms. So maybe Reynaldo felt he was helping me finally handle some of this stuff. To paraphrase that old Viet Nam-era adage, perhaps he had to destroy my living room to save it.
These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
They do have a way of turning things into chaos.
ReplyDeleteThat's the benefit of having a fish. The most he can do is shake his fins!
ReplyDeleteMr.Cat has been known to do things like that.
ReplyDelete