Saturday, 14 September 2013

I'd Like to Make A Complaint! No Catty Comments, Please...


     Yip! Another argument with the missus. But then I'm only human. She doesn't need to say anything. I know she's upset with me. Her body language says it all. It's not that she's giving me the 'silent treatment'. How could she? She's a cat! But I can see that I need to change the way I look at stuff. It's so easy to philosophize about it and learn all the theories but when you actually come to try and put it into practice...!

     So I've had some time in isolation to think things through. Or, at least, I would have some time in isolation if I could just get a moment to myself!

Screen Yourself Off

     I am a sucker to my computer. I love Facebook. I love tweeting and I love writing blogs. All too often my involvement in the various groups and communities I either belong to or help run results in my spending hours on end chained to the computer, responding, liking, sharing or commenting. On this appointed day of isolation, a day when I could really do with typing furiously and muttering obscenities under my breath, I approach the computer and find a picket line which cannot be crossed!

     I could be imagining it, of course, but isn't that rather a mischievous look in Pusia's eye? In my flight of fancy I have this notion that Pusia has picked up on my mood and placed herself strategically between myself and the entire awesome majesty of the Interweb! Not even the enticing rattle of her treat tin nor the gurgling shake of her cat milk bottle can lure her away from her post.

     I have no alternative but to sit at the chair whilst she resolutely refuses to move. Indeed, rather than slough off this rare moment of contact with the cat who owns me, I decide to work around her, quite literally. I give her the occasional stroke and just as I manage to find the optimal position at which I can type with arms either side of her purring little body she stalks off to sit on a distant corner of the table.

Make A Date

     Relieved that I can finally get some work done I reach for my diary and open it at the appointed page. Quite another drama unfolds as the pages flutter open! In the moment of respite that I'd had to flex my arms and get the blood back to my fingers Pusia has taken up a new position on the pages of the open journal.

     It appears that the day has been cancelled. I coo at her, a distracting tactic I've learnt that works quite well and generally leads to her disapproval. She's in a funny mood, though. I've seen it many times before. When she's in this kind of mood she remains calmly sitting just out of reach and staring off into the distance.

Upwardly Mobile

     The theme continues as I ditch the diary and decide to make a call. In one swift and polished move, Pusia relocates to the spot where my phone lies on the corner of the table. She purrs defiantly at me! She is quite settled and it would be unkind of me to disturb her fluffy bottom and try to retrieve the phone from underneath her.

     These events were accumulating to something more significant than pure coincidence! There was deliberate intent in Pusia's actions that seemed to be challenging my every attempt to do something constructive with the day.

Desperate Measures

     I normally work at the kitchen table. Confounded by events I decide that I'll get more done working in my therapy room. I have a large Victorian desk there. Normally Pusia won't go anywhere near it but as I walk from the kitchen to the therapy room she bounds off the table and follows me. Before I can say 'catnip' she leaps ahead of me and lands with a satisfying thump on the leather surface of the desk.

     We're back to the cool and aloof state of affairs. Pusia takes an interest in the items littering the desk and finds sudden animated interest in a quite inanimate bit of paper.

The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius

     And then it starts to dawn on me. Something has to change. Pusia is such a little force of immoveable feline energy that she's detected my mood is not quite as it should be today. If I write in this state then the words will be quite uninspired. What I really need to have is some quality time away from the usual and routine stuff.

     In a moment of acceptance I pack up the computer and put away my phone and the diary. It's already quite late in the day, in any case. The rain is splashing down outside and it feels more like winter than the waning days of the summer.

     But it's time to do something for Pusia and me. She gets these moods, it's true. On the other hand she's easily pleased. A bit of cat milk, a few treats and a sardine will get her purring like a tiger! Occasionally, though, what she needs is a bit of connection, just like me.

     So I light a candle, which I always love as a calming influence, I put it on the table and at last Pusia's mood changes. Instead of ignoring me she suddenly looks hopeful. I sit down and slap my hands gently on my lap.

     This is the universal sign for surrender to a cat, I'm sure. For the first time in the day I feel untroubled as I sit with the cat and she gently purrs as I stroke her.

     We've come to an understanding again. Things are back as they should be. Although the work will still be there tomorrow right now this is the most important thing I can be doing.

     To sit quietly reflecting as I stroke Pusia is a tonic. It focuses my thoughts. It calms my troubled mind. She's responsive to my every touch and this fills my heart with much more joy than posting on Facebook! All day long, Pusia has been trying to make a complaint. I finally got the message.