Obviously, my wonderfully fat and fluffy cat, Scrat, means a lot to me.
I come to realize this when I was going through my photos for this week's blog challenge. Of course I thought of answers such as love, family, friends, work, money, my jewelry and so on. But I noticed I have more pictures of my fat cat than anything else, which made me realize that he is in fact very special to me.
He was born in a litter of only 4 kittens and actually was the last one we could not get rid of. Maybe that means he was meant to be with me...? He really was a scrawny little thing with a big head for most of his younger years. It wasn't until he got older that he got fat and lazy.
But I love how he "shows" me he loves me every time I see him. When I'm gone to work, he sleeps on my side of the bed (when he's not with Jeremy). When I come through the door he starts meowing at me (probably bitching and asking where have I been). Sometimes he sits in the front window and waits for me there. He follows me around the house when he thinks I'm going to feed him or getting ready for bed. I mostly love how he curls up in my arms when we sleep at night, like a furry baby Huey. He knows that's his spot, and he's not afraid to push Jeremy out of the way so he can snuggle in.
I still think of him as my child. I fuss at him for biting or clawing or when he refuses to come in at night. I punish or "ground" him from going out when he doesn't act right. On the flip side I cuddle him when he's hurt and I play with him when he's feeling frisky. He snuggles with me at night and misses me when I'm away. And he fights with daddy (Jeremy).
I've told Jeremy that the world will just come to a screeching halt the day he dies. I'm not stupid and think he'll live forever, but I still like to think of the few more years he'll have with me. A few more fat, furry years.
No comments:
Post a Comment