cCats and Coping

     My cats miss my husband.  So Do I.  At least I can visit him at the residential care facility where he has lived for the past 5 months.  They grieve their loss.  I see it in their accusing eyes.  Or so it seems to me.  Cats are unfathomable.

    Des misses them, too  He aks me if I talk about him.  Do they remember him?  Oh, yes, I say.  Who wouldn't miss his adoring pats, his murmured words of love?  I do.  But I know where he is and why. They don't.  They stare at me with round unblinking eyes, hungry for affection.  So am I. 

     Their behavour has changed since his absence.  Mitzi, the more verbal and hedonistic cat, whines for attention and food.  Her sister, Murphi, the mellow orange ball of fluff, follows me, leaps above my recliner and settles in.  Her tail brushes my forehead.  She yawns and waits for my next move.  Often, she slides down to stare at me face to face, her whiskers brushing my cheek.  I pet her and say, I know, baby.  Life is not fair.

     Mitzi is more restless, moves about for a place to nestle. She avoids the love seat, their special place, where she and Des sat side by side watching television.  Des would hold her tail and she didn't mind.  Kind of like holding hands she  stared straight ahead, her paw resting on the arm of the love seat while I watched from my recliner.

    She hasnt found her new niche yet, but does replace Murphi on the perch above the recliner when Murph goes for a potty break.   Mitzi rests her chin on my head then rubs it back and forth with pressure.  I try to duck down so she can't reach my head, but Des would say, oh look how she loves you.  I would smirk and say she just wants food.  But maybe he is right.  We all want love, the  unconditional kind.  Agape love, Des called it way back when.

     Does he feel it now, ten minutes from home by car,  but permanently embedded  in our hearts?
 
     Murphy purrs, Mitzi whines and I sigh.   I'm working on gratitude, but it is a tough sell.

So Says Sassy